I had a dream last night of my childhood home on Rosborough Avenue. This prompted me to drive down there for no particular reason. Annoyingly, the Dorset Avenue Bridge is still closed for repairs, which means you have to drive way out of your way to get on and off Absecon Island. However, it was another lovely day, so no matter. I just drove around; stopped at friend Mary H.'s, but she wasn't home, so I left a note. Parked at St. James and thought I'd stop in, but they were closed for Spring Break. Went across the street to Connie and Tom H.'s, but their tenant told me they were still in Florida. Okay, I was batting zero, so I drove back home, but somehow with a light heart.
I was stunned--and delighted--to find that Robert Meeropol's book, An Execution In The Family, was in my own little library, and I stopped to pick it up. It's absorbing and I'm looking forward to seeing him at the brunch in Ocean City. The idea that both your parents were put to death by your government when you were six years old is just mind-boggling.
Bob S. came about 3:30 to turn on the outside water and flush the sprinklers. He has to come back today to complete it.
Went to rehearsal. The particular scene they ran through hadn't been done before and it's very ragged. Guess it'll shape up. I took one of the big signs on Magnolias to put on my lawn. I don't think you're supposed to do this, but I'll leave it until some committee or other tells me it's not allowed.