Lots

Lots going on. Went to T.O.P.S. and was annoyed with myself to find I've gained--but only two tenths of a pound, so I wasn't that annoyed. We had a fun meeting, too.
Didn't get home until after 10:00, so had a late breakfast. Betty, who's now home, called and I asked her about the book Suzanne Next Door had given me. She said she had asked her daughter-in-law to send it. Upshot was, Robyn, the DIL, called, and will send tomorrow.
I took clothes to the laundry place and barely got them washed, dried, folded, and put away before I had to get ready for The Townhouse. Stopped at the P.O. first to send Mike's new credit card to him.
I pulled in to The Townhouse, but there were no parking places left in the lot, so I parked on the street. It's quite a jaunt to the facility, which is set back, but it's good for me to walk. At the elevator, I met up with Margaret, who had been the nutritionist at SCAN and who was instrumental in bringing my acting class to Marsha M.'s attention (she's the director from Long Beach, who approved my proposal).
Doris, Sherry, and Jean were already there and had saved us seats. Dr. Wordling's topic this time was Alzheimer's; next month, he'll continue it. I found it mildly interesting, but not riveting, I guess because there's no cure. Also, I frankly have my doubts that 1. people can somehow prevent it by doing crossword puzzles or eating Tasmanian grapes, or something and 2. it can be slowed by certain medications. Seems to me a lot of that could be hearsay or pharm company misrepresentations. I was more interested in chatting with Margaret, who has been going back and forth to L.A. to care for her 92-year-old mother. She's exhausted and we talked as two people do who are both reasonably well educated and share a caregiver role--hers current, mine in the past.
After the lecture, we were "treated" to snacks of peaches in little plastic cups. Now, there are few things I like more than fresh Jersey peaches and few I like less than canned or plasticized peaches, but I accepted a cup and ate most--not sure why. I had told Carole I would take Jean home and I did; she lives not far from Ellen and it was no problem.
Jean is almost--not quite--old enough to be my mother. I think she's 94, but is just remarkably bright, alert, and easy to talk to. We had a good chat, I dropped her off, then drove back to The Townhouse for the wine and music afternoon.
It was a jazz group, all three members certainly over 60 and probably older, and they were really good. I greeted Doris and Sherry, who talked all through the program--so damned rude. I had a glass of Chardonnay and some cheese and crackers. After, I went across the room to greet my pal, Joe. His son, Donna's brother, was there from Boston, and it was nice meeting him.
Later in the evening, Robyn called again to say somebody had told her it was snowing in Ventura, and she wanted to check. I went out to the patio to look and no, thre was nary a flake, so somebody must have been pulling her leg.