Lambertville

Met Jeanne P. at Lamberville Station at 1:00; long drive, almost two hours, but it was a sunny day and I enjoyed it.  Jeanne looked fabulous, as always, with nicely styled blonde hair and a pretty aqua shell and beige topper.
I actually remember when Lambertville Station opened, thirty or more years ago, and in its first life it had, indeed, been a train depot.  I first tasted Peking duck there, on Christmas Eve, when it was our custom for the whole family to eat out then and on Easter.  (I never dreamed I'd enjoy that dish in Beijing itself someday.)
Lambertville, the town, is an enjoyable place, in spite of its self-conscious artiness--or maybe because of it. It's hard to separate the phony from the real in Lambertville, not to mention across the river in New Hope; to perverse me, that's part of their charms.
Jeanne and I had a Corona with lime each and shared a Caesar salad.  We also had a friendly and fun waiter named Peter, who has an antique shop (in Lambertville, you have to have either an antique shop or an art gallery--it's the law) across the street. 
The town was crowded with people and cars, so we left ours at the restaurant parking lot and walked down to Elva's.  Her gallery is filled with lovely paintings--all of it representative, as she doesn't do abstract--and Elva herself greeted us warmly.
We were chatting--Jeanne remembered Jackie L. introducing her to Elva when they were about fifteen--when an attractive young woman walked in.  I thought it was a customer, but it was Donna, Jeanne's daughter.  She looks to be in her thirties, but incredibly, she's considerably older.  Donna is very tall, nicely rounded, but slender, with a lovely face; I wasn't surprised to learn she had been a model at one time.  She was excited about her new job as a skin care specialist for "Violet," which is the Armenian owner's name and maybe the company's, too.
After we left Elva's, we strolled to Rick's Italian Restaurant, where Donna works and lives, in an interesting apartment above.  She was also once married to the restaurant owner.  She and his new wife, who also works there, are friendly--long story that, which I won't go into.
I said my goodbyes about 4:30 and headed back.  When I'm in the area, I usually drive past my home of 41 years and/or stop at Rider, but it was too late for that.
Got a call from Betty in the evening.  She leaves for home today and will spend Mother's Day with us.
Now, I must put frivolity* behind me and turn my attention to choosing, buying, and planting flowers for the front beds. 
*"...put frivolity behind me"?  Hell, no!