My friend, Nancy P., called about 10:00 and we had a good talk for a half hour or so. She's still avoiding the going-out-to-eat circuit, but at least the worst of the dental work is almost over. She said she had finished another water color, which she was sending to a friend in Germany.
Went to my PT appointment at 11:00 and learned how to walk again, which I seem to have been doing ass-backward the past few years. In fact, Diana and I practiced (push off with toes, land on heel) inside, then walked around the block of buildings on that glorious sunny day. I was out earlier than I thought I'd be, so ran several errands before driving to Brophy Brothers at the harbor.
I was a little early--I had asked Joyce if we could meet at 1:00--so sat and absorbed the sun for a bit. She drove up, we went in, and sat down on the porch overlooking the water. Now, one on one, we got to know each other better.
Joyce, whom I met though the widder group, is close to my age and has lived in southern Cal all her life. She had been a travel agent in her working life, had two chldren, divorced, married again to a guy with two kids, and he died three years ago. She had had knee surgery five months ago and still walks with a cane, but seems to be doing well.
Our talk ranged all over the map and included--my conversations almost always do--lots about family. Joyce is an only child, a station in life I can barely grasp. When I was a kid, of course, as one of six and a twin to boot, I wanted to be an only child. They didn't have to share, either toys or parents. Now, considering my gigantic, far-flung, and ever-fascinating family, I realize how lucky I am.
Anyway, we shared some good talk, including about her knee--I wanted to get her history on that--our late husbands and other topics. Joyce is a member of Toastmasters and recently delivered a talk on Afghanistan; I found that interesting. After a leisurely lunch, we said our goodbyes and "keep in touch" requests, then drove off.
Driving away, I absentmindedly turned at the wrong road and took the one to Oxnard, but that was okay. I found Victoria Avenue and took that to Telegraph and the post office to drop off my friend's baptismal certificate and Singapore son's mail. Went from there to the library to return a book on the White House decor. I forgot I might go to the BCNN breakfast shortly, so could dropp it off while I'm in town, but no prob.
In the evening, I called my former next-door neighbor and good friend, Frank D., to commiserate over Desi's death. Frank and Desi had been close friends and, in fact, Frank introduced me to Desi, which is how I got into acting. We talked for a bit and I caught up on goings-on at Sunrise Bay--funny, my former life seems simultaneously just a short time ago and years and years back.
I finally received a response from the outfit to which I submitted three five-minute plays. It was just to tell me that had been received--they got 700 entries! I don't really expect mine to be selected, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing you-know-what. I haven't yet gotten an acknowledgement from the Santa Paula Theatre concerning my submission of three one-acters for their "Backstage Theatre."