Monday 21-6-10: dangerous footwear

Early that afternoon, Mr CJ was trimming both sides of the hedge between his back garden and the Old Man’s. Standing at the kitchen window, I saw him walk down the path alongside the Old Man’s house, towards the Old Man’s green bin. Mr CJ must have squeezed through the gap between the hedge and the rear of the two houses. For some reason, Mr & Mrs CJ do not have a green bin and put their garden waste into the Old Man’s green bin. I opened the kitchen window and called out, “I’ve caught you!” We exchanged a few friendly words.
I did not see Mrs CJ at all during my visit to Peakville, but I did hear her voice from her back garden.
When we went shopping on Saturday 19 June 2010, I had noticed that one of the Old Man’s brown suede shoes had come apart. The heel and much of the sole had split away from the upper. Now, when I was putting the rubbish out, I told the Old Man about the problem. “You could trip yourself up,” I said. With his agreement I threw the shoe away.

The evening medication session, which I conducted by phone from Suburbia Somnolenta, took place with few glitches.
“Simvastatatin.”
The Old Man got out two ferrous sulphate tablets. No doubt when I asked whether he’d got one out, he had already forgotten that he had done so.
“They’re in water.” — i.e. he had incorrectly put the simvastatin and ferrous sulphate into a cup of water.
“Co-codavan.”
I told the Old Man: “Pack everything away.”
“And watch TV,” he dryly responded.
Football was on (Spain versus Honduras), but he watched Wimbledon instead. At 21:00 he was trying to select channel 103 for the football by pressing buttons on the phone.
Five or ten minutes later I had to get him to turn the TV sound off so that I could speak to him. (It still wasn’t the football that he was watching.) I think it is weeks since that situation last arose.

[Original posting 21 June 2011]

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