Books and Stuff

I continue to enjoy these waning days of summer, although they don't include many firm plans--maybe that's why I'm enjoying them.
Made a big salad--geez, I seem to do that every day--and had it for lunch, adding the last of the pork roast, cut up.  Drove to the Shop-Rite in Waretown to pick up various items, then to the post office and library.  Took back two books on Johnny Carson--I'm over him now--and got a new bio of John Wayne. Dipped into it last night and it looks absorbing.
Earlier in the day, I had started a book by the mother of a Downs Syndrome child, but will probably put it aside.  I'm not sure why this kind of thing appeals to me. anyway--other people's woes.  I'm afraid it isn't for any benign reasons. but most likely because they make me so grateful I'm not the author or the subject.
Further "booking": Using the last of Mike's generous Mothers' Day gift, I ordered Roz Chast's Can't we Talk About Something More Pleasant: A Memoir,* from Amazon.  Am also awaiting from Amazon, Jesse James, Last Rebel of the Civil War. That may seem a peculiar topic for me, but I became interested after reading a rave review.  The author, a distinguished historian, outlines what he sees as the sociological reasons for James' criminal activity. Guess it would be included under "Why People Do What They Do," and that's a topic I find endlessly fascinating.  
Put my sale items on Facebook, then the twin beds and the maple table on Craig's List.  Actually got some interest--one woman left me a private message on FB, I called her and she said she was interested in the armoire.  Unfortunately, she needed me to deliver it (to Mays Landing) and I'm not able to.  We agreed cordially it wasn't to be.
Somebody else does want to buy the rattan chest.  Darn, I asked only ten bucks for it and I bet I could get twenty...
...aagh--what an idiotic reaction!  I've had the damn thing for twenty years or more and the only function it serves is to contain things--pictures, mostly--that I never even look at.  Good grief, I should pay her to take it away.
Called my cousin, Marifran, in Ohio--to me, she's my "Cincinnati Sis"--and we had a good long talk.  She's had cancer for five years and is treating it with alternative medicines--oh, please, let them work.
Betty called. We'll meet at the cemetery on Saturday, the fortieth anniversary of her husband's death--how could that possibly be?--then go to lunch.
*I've been a Roz Chast fan for years.  Her cartoons, instantly recognizable, appear regularly in The New Yorker.  They're invariably comments on modern life and are subtle, but not obscure (as some New Yorker cartoons are), and always more gentle than nasty.  The book is concerned with the drama surrounding the aging of her parents and, I understand, includes her art, as well as photographs, and writings.  Can't wait for Roz and Jesse to get here!