I had been just a little blue lately--felt I was kind of spinning my wheels--but I've snapped out of it. Did the walk, of course, then spent time clearing up a few problems with AAA and so on--all fixed now. Went to Wal-Mart and, as long as I was there, decided to take my BP. It was again very low, but I have a doctor's appointment in a few weeks and I'll talk it over with her.
Got an e-mail from my short-time acquaintance, Diane B., to the effect that she's moved back to the area. Here's some info on her from a blog entry last July:
--Diane is an interesting person and incredibly, also a pacifist, one of the few around here, it seems. She goes to the Unitarian Church (or "church") and is a mindFUNism instructor. Yeah, I think it's nuts, but I like her. She had an eight-bedroom house in San Francisco, and opened a bed and bath, but lost it, along with her first husband. I'm not sure exactly why, but I suspect bankruptcy...Diane is 75, which I was amazed to hear; as I told her, she doesn't look over sixty. She laughed and said she's "had work," I guess a face lift. She's has a nice figure--slender, but not bony, and is quite attractive. She does have neuropathy and uses a cane.--
Diane sent me her phone number and asked me to call her, which I did, and left a message; haven't heard back yet.
I called dear brother, Frank, and we chatted. He's still talking about bringing Marybeth home. He misses her, plus Mercy Central costs seven thou a month. He thinks hiring people to come in would cost less, but more important, he misses her. While we were on the phone, his daughter, Francine, came in. She had to go to Sacramento for work and Frank was going along for the ride. I then called Sue, as nobody I knew has heard from her for some time. She said she's had the flu, plus Mac's Alzheimer's is worsening; however, she wants to get together and was glad to hear from me. I called Carole to tell her, then took off for town.
Stopped at Suzanne's when I got home to ask if I could borrow her BP machine. She doesn't have it, but will borrow another from St. John's and bring it home today. We caught up with each other--she and her sibs are going to Tennessee in August for a cousins gathering--and chatted happily.
*That's the title of a bio by Michael J. Fox. Nowadays, publishing hacks think up such titles, usually with a non-subtle double meaning. In this case, it refers to how short the author is, plus optimism. Christopher Reeve's book is called Still Me--get it? H can't move after his accident, but is still the same old guy. Why I find these unfunny puns so irritating, I don't know. I do like Roger Egert's Life Itself, both the title and the book. Speaking of books, I'm in the middle of one on Andre Previn and his music. Though I'm a musical illiterate, I find it absorbing. It's called simply Previn.
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