Spent much of yesterday just coming back down to earth. Washed the stuff I brought back dirty, put everything away, and opened and dealt with the mountain of mail from almost two weeks. Alison, that gem, had done all Pat's wash, changed our sheets,and even cleaned the refrigerator, inside and out.
Went over to Irene W.'s to get the outfits I'm wearing in the fashion show tomorrow. I was a bit worried they wouldn't fit me anymore, so wanted to try them on. Tried the Bermudas, blouse, and jacket and they look terrific. I assume the black and white skirt and top will, too, and will try it on today, then accessorize both outfits.
I enthusiatically accepted an e-mail invitation from Leslie to join them on June 2 for an Atlantic City Surf baseball game their church sponsors. I've gone to this for the last three years--the first time with Pat. Am trying not to obsess over the places we used to be able to go together.
Today, I have to take Pat to the radiation place for a checkup--or something, neither one of us can remember--and to his podiatrist after that.
Heard from Pat R. that Joe C., who graduated from HSHS with her, died at his mother's old home on Buffalo Avenue in Ventnor. I'm so sorry. My parents introduced his widowed mother, my mother's best friend, to "Uncle Bob," my father's best friend since college, and they married. Joe was a few years younger than Betty and me, and we used to call him "Boy Baby." The house had been Uncle Bob's.
Damn, that's a downer.