Monday

After breakfast, I impulsively called Muckie Datesman and we talked for one hour and ten minutes. Muckie* had been one of Betty's best friends and had been a bridesmaid in her wedding. I always liked her and still do. Muck has lived with her son and his wife in Virginia for quite a few years. I hadn't spoken her for about a year and she had important news to share. But not good news. 

It rained, which comes across as something of a miraculous event around here. I wore older shoes--I have boots, but they're fur-lined snow boots, which would have been silly--but as it turned out, I didn't even open my umbrella. Yes, a poky California rain.

Only Vera, Dennis, Greg, and I were there, unlike the usual Soaring Spirits lunch crowd (Californians think water falling from the sky is toxic), but we had an absolute ball. The guys couldn't have been more fun and the four of us just talked and talked and laughed. We all use some pretty "salty"--as the euphemism goes--language, Greg in particular. Frankly, that appeals to me a lot more than the sanctimonious types that seem to populate elderly ranks. Not that my companions are elderly--the guys are in their middle sixties and Vera's a mere kid of 43.  Dennis is the one who has a different theme painted on his toenails every month; I had posted his October skeleton ones and here they are for Thanksgiving--teeny turkeys!

Vera dropped me off at Von's after, and I bought a bottle of Drano. Poured it into the sink, but to no avail, so I called the office. Jose, one of the newer maintenance men, came and happily, used his magic--and other items--to unclog--YAY!  I took a two-hour nap and felt good when I got up.

Lunch today with Julie at the Ventura Women's Club. Not sure if I want to join--most likely not, but I never pass up a chance for an outing.