Spent most of the day catching up on mail and other stuff, running errands, and cleaning up. It was good to resume Susan's and my morning walk, but boy, I found the three-mile exercise at the club house gruelling after a nine-day hiatus. I had over-bought peppers and onions, so gave Susan and the D.'s some. The D.'s gave me four oranges from their trip to Florida. We happened to be at Disney World the same time, but at different parks.
My friend, Karen C., sent me the script for her play "Eating The Bear" and I've been rehearsing. This is the short version--I asked her to copy and send the longer one, as I can't open it electronically, for some reason.
Drove to Manahawkin late in the day to pick up a few things at Shop-Rite. It's raining this morning, so I guess we'll walk with umbrellas. Have an editorial meeting for The Breeze this afternoon.
WIDER: From Orwell's journal entry of November 4, 1940:
"The unspeakable depression of lighting the fires every morning with papers of a year ago, and getting glimpses of optimistic headlines as they go up in smoke."
We don't have to worry about things like that in the United States of Amnesia*, as nobody remembers what happened last week, let alone...
*Phrase coined by Gore Vidal.