Yesterday I wrote how things seem pretty much consistent. However, there are still numerous small changes and it is in their cumulation that the tale is now being told.
I went up to my parents’s home last night—yes, literally up, since I live in the Berkeley flats and they live, lordly, up in the hills. Everything seemed much as it had on Monday, save that when I went to one of the bathrooms on the second floor, the one my father uses most frequently, I noticed a riser seat had been placed on the toilet and a new steel grab bar bolted to the wall adjacent. I predict the appearance of similar conveniences in the downstairs bathroom, once my Aunt Gloria goes home.
We are still waiting for the handicapped license plates for my father’s car.
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