Sad story of my kitchen floor: When we moved here eight years ago, we spent an extra TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS upgrading that floor from pokey, everyday vinyl tile to a rustic, cool-looking (figuratively, not literally) Italian stone. It reminds one--I fondly hope--of Tuscany or something. It's beige overall, but variegated in tone and is purposefully pitted, the way the floor in a villa overlooking the Amalfi coast would be...
It's the bane of my life! Although it doesn't "show the dirt," as my mother's genteel expression used to be, it's impossible to thoroughly clean it unless you get down on your hands and knees with a scrubbing brush. Which is exactly what I spent HOURS doing yesterday. What a job. But it does look nice.
Earlier, I went to exercise--the three-mile, yet--and, although I walked plenty during my trip, I really felt it in my upper thighs. Good, I'm back in the game.
E-mailed back and forth to friend, Ellen V., and tentatively set up a date for lunch on Wednesday. Betty will be here and I'd like to introduce them.
Spent time writing up some of my Vietnam experiences for The Breeze. Must get busy on the other articles, including one on Our Town for the April issue, too.
Called that devil's spawn, Comcast, to say I can't possibly install that godforsaken "digital device" they foisted on my and made an appointment to have them come do it. Will cost fifteen bucks, but that's okay.
Barb H., her sister, Pat, and I are going "maple sugaring" today, as part of another Ocean County van tour. It's includes three miles of walking, about which I'm pleased. Must pack a lunch. Tomorrow, the G.'s and I will attend The Wizard of Oz at Pinelands Regional High. That should be fun, too.