Soggy Saturday

It rained a bit in the morning, but cleared up for a time, so Jim came for lunch. I made penne pasta with--what else? pasta sauce--and meatballs. BUT I'm ashamed to admit it, I didn't make the meatballs myself, but bought them frozen. They were okay, I guess, but I don't think I'll do that again.

Chatting with Jim on the couch, I came up with the idea of asking him which philosophers he likes most: Hegel and Sartre, it turns out. He expounded on their ideas, along with those of Aristotle, Socrates, and Plato. I actually found that fascinating and happy day, he'll talk when that's the topic. We also discussed philosophy, religion, and the history of both.

He left about 3:00 and I cleaned up, then put on my raincoat and warm hat and gloves, and bused to town. Browsed around and bought a few small items. Darn, by the time I was ready to walk the several blocks to the bus stop, it was raining again. I hadn't brought my umbrella, nor was I wearing my boots, so I got pretty wet. Luckily, though, I had to wait only ten or so for the 16, which turns into the 10 and lets me off right at my complex.

Back at my cozy abode, I called my cousin, Marifran in Cincinnati, to see if she could shed any light on whether my father's pictures on the track and debating teams were from high school or college. Marifran is the daughter of my father's much younger brother, and she won't turn 80 until December, a mere kid. I wasn't surprised that she didn't know the answers to my questions, so we hung up after a few minutes

...NOT! We talked for one hour and ten minutes and by then, it was well past my usual dinnertime, but I didn't care. Ellen had called while I was on the phone and I immediately called her back. We talked happily for about thirty, so by the time my phone sessions were over, it was well after 8:00. I reheated what was left of the lunch pasta, fired up the TV, and rejoined Harry and Megan for an hour on Netflix.  

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I asked the good people at Photo Restoration And Colorization on Facebook to colorize this:

And this was the result:

I'm not entirely happy with it, as it distorts facial features, but oh, well. I had provided the fact that my outfit was kelly-green (what was I thinking?!) and Betty's was navy. This was taken on Easter, April 9, 1950 and, from left, shows my mother, me, Larry, Betty, Jimmy, Gene,* and--holding two-year-old Stevie's hand, his first grandson, my father. He had 54 days left to live.   

*Gene was eight months pregnant with her second son, Kenny. Horribly for our family, both Steve and Ken would too soon emulate their grandfather. Ken would be killed at 31 while piloting a navy helicopter which went down off the coast of Virginia. Three years later, Steve, 33,  would die in a car accident in Kentucky. The following is an article about Ken from the U.S. Navel Academy, his alma mater. I had never seen this before:

https://usnamemorialhall.org/index.php/KENNETH_J._WESSEL,_LCDR,_USN