A Party and Pills

Puttered around with this and that before showering and dressing after lunch for caroling.  I donned the full regalia this time: long black dress, black lace over-skirt, black net top over white blouse, and of course, the jaunty Hedda Hat.
I went with Frank and Barbara from next door, about ten of us assembling at Seacrest--specifically, the Alzheimer's unit--and we sang for more than an hour.  This wasn't terribly stimulating; most of the audience were in wheelchairs or rolling lounges and virtually all were out of it, although some sang along and even applauded. Most dozed or were dazed.  Depressing?  Yes, it was.
After that, we sang at The Terraces, a few miles away.  This is owned by the same family, but is an independent living facility and the differences are striking.  The residents are ambulatory and all, it's pretty evident, were as lucid as I am (yoicks--maybe that's faint praise!).  We chatted with them after, then strolled around a bit, admiring the elegant decor and beautiful Christmas decorations. Ah-h-h, but after that, we all drove over to Jim and Mary's for hot buttered rum, cheese soup, pulled pork, and an array of luscious desserts.  
I had never had hot buttered rum before and oh, mama!  It immediately became my new favorite drink (although in warm weather, that may be a bit problematic).  I like the taste of rum and, in my book, butter combined with cream and cinnamon proves this is the best of all possible worlds.  They were so good I had two, along with an initial Corona with lime.
Somehow, the talk got around to drugs and I casually mentioned that my obstetrician wasn't happy with the few pounds I had gained early in my second pregnancy and had prescribed "diet pills," which are amphetamines, of course.  I was supposed to take half of one in the morning, but--as I innocently explained--after a time it didn't seem to have an effect, so I increased the dosage.  By the time I was ready to deliver, I was taking six at a time--hey, they were very tiny--which was certainly effective.  (In truth, I weighed less when I was nine months along than I did when I became pregnant.)  I had no problem obtaining them, as it was an open-ended prescription.
Now, Jim is a physician and while I was recounting this, I thought he'd explode.  "W-h-h-a-a-t?" he cried, his eyes almost popping out of his head.  One of his charms (to me, that is; it may not be so for everybody), is his open, exuberant, not to say boisterous, personality, and he exhibited every facet of it last night.  The rest of the company chimed in with both horror and amusement and--slightly propelled by alcohol, I guess--we discussed my fifty-three-year-old transgressions for some time.  Jim had plenty to say and Mary, who teaches nursing at Penn, chimed in with the rest of the group.  Instead of being embarrassed, I found it a lot of fun.
I was home before 8:00, as we had started out early, and skipped my wine (the hot buttered rum was enough) for iced tea, then went early to bed.
Going to Acura in Egg Harbor this morning, then home to pack.