2001-06-29 - 9:23 p.m.

Tonight's visit to Grampa with Melanie was much like the previous ones, except this time Grampa was in his wheelchair in front of the nurses' station "waiting for the house detective to come and return him to his apartment so he could sleep in his own bed one last time." She was coming on Sunday; never mind that today is Friday. And never mind that there is no house detective, and never mind that Grampa couldn't furnish a name, even if there is one. And never mind that it was 8:20 on a Friday evening.

Melanie gave him the hearing aid that she picked up from the repair place for him. Turning it on and putting it in his ear was out of the question as "they were supposed to do something to that ear tomorrow." So, he put it in the pocket of his shirt.

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I don't want to go to Vermont. But I need Uncle Bill to work on my car. I'll just have to endure it. I should be back on Tuesday or Wednesday, if the good Lord is willin' and the creek don't rise (as Dad would say).