Hot

Yep, it was that hot.

Did three loads of wash, then thought I'd walk to the post office to mail a little gift for Mr. K., in Tokyo. I started out, but turned back when I got across the street: It was so hot, I actually thought it was foolhardy to continue. I even toyed with the idea of going in the pool. However, I had other things to do, including reading the rest of my big sister's diary. I also signed up (and paid twenty bucks) to join E- yearbook. 

In my sister, Gene's (not "Jean's") 1942 yearbook, I also found my brother-in-law, John Molloy. Incredibly, I don't believe I ever met him. He was an gunner or something during WWII. He was captured and spent time in a German concentration camp. I think he suffered from depression and maybe other emotional illnesses; he seems to have rejected the rest of the family after he returned home. I know he married someone named Patricia and they lived in the Midwest and had one son. John died 25 or 30 years ago. Here he is as an HSHS grad:

Sherry, from Dudley House, called, asking if I could docent on May 1. However, Mike is coming on April 29 and will stay over until May 1, so I want to be here. I told Sherry I'd do it in June. Now I have to not only get my costume from Ellen's, but study my spiel--it's been so long since I've been there. I mentioned to Sherry that I'd be at the docent covered dish on May 11 and will probably bring Jim. She gushed over that, saying how much she likes Jim. (She's seen him exactly twice, both times at the docent covered dish.) Of course, whether I bring him depends on whether we're still speaking or not.

At 7:30, I got a Facetime call from Erica, whom I met after the BCNN meeting on Wednesday. I thought it was a little odd she contacted me that way, but no prob. We chatted and will, one of these days, make a lunch date.  

An odd occurrence: After dinner, I picked up my mail and saw what was obviously a bill from the Ventura Star. What, after all my long-running payment problems with them, now they're sending me a bill? I didn't have my glasses on, so couldn't see the addressee lines, but opened it. Yes, a bill, but then I looked: It was addressed to "Mary M------n, apartment ---". That's Vickie's partner, now in a memory care facility, but that's my address! I took it over to Vickie and we agreed that the Star is a screw-up and may not be in business long. Also that we must be the only two people in the complex--or in Ventura-- who subscribe.