Sunday

Jim came at his usual 12:30. I had been on the fence about whether to serve sandwiches or spaghetti and meatballs; it stayed fairly cool (for here), so it was the latter. If I say it myself, my meatballs (with ground turkey, not beef) were superb. Jim thought so, too. Along with sourdough and Irish soda bread, wine, beer, and my strawberry ice cream for dessert, it was yummy.

After, we sat on the couch as usual, and talked books and other topics. I asked Jim if he'd take me and my donations to the Goodwill in east Ventura, just three or so miles away. He agreed and we piled this into his car:   

Besides what can been seen, in the box I had put six blouses, a sweater, a Halloween pillow, and some decorations. The vacuum cleaner works well, but is so heavy I don't like to push it around. Besides, I have a Dirt devil and a Shark, so they're enough. 

We got the stuff to Goodwill, then Jim dropped me off at home. My friend, Diane, and I are exchanging pictures of ourselves in our youth (she's five years younger) and I started digging up some oldies. I think this one is telling re the ciggie in my hand:

This was in about 1957 at the Boca Raton Club in Boca Raton, Florida, where Pat worked. We would be married the following year. 

Called Ellen. She's throwing a baby shower for her "teacher teammate" Michelle, on Wednesday at school. Which reminds me: the Dudley House covered dish is the day after tomorrow; must decide what to bring and also, remind Jim, who will be again be going with me. And what will he bring? Ha! Never in a million years would it occur to him to bring anything. But wait, he will be, as he always does: He's bringing Mimi.