Wednesday And Wolfe

Spent the early part of the day on mundane chores, including calls to clarify various financial matters and cleaning up otherwise. Cheryl called to say she'd pick me up for T.O.P.S. tomorrow, as her leg and nose are better. Suzanne stopped in to say she had called Sharon and had a good chat with her. Walked over to CVS for a few items.

Showered and got ready for BCNN Happy Hour at Cabo Mexican restaurant in Oxnard. Julie picked me up at 3:30 and off we went. The place is authentically Mexican--not a chain--and was very noisy. There were about thirty attendees at three different tables and I was sitting under a kind of curved glass canopy, which meant I had to wear my sunglasses to avoid being blinded. In addition, we hadn't been told the place no longer issues separate checks, so we all had spend time puzzling out what we owed on the list handed around. We also hadn't known to bring cash. I carry only twenty or so with me--I charge everything--so I may have been the only one who paid by card. 

With all that, though, I had a great time. Got to know some new people, many of whom said they wanted to be in my acting class "next time." (What makes them think there'll be a next time?) Also met Ellen M. O., who's in real estate and we got along like a house afire. She, Dusty, and I want to meet for lunch at Yolanda's sometimes in the near future. Also got acquainted with Sandy, whom I honestly pegged to be in her late thirties--until she mentioned what her husband got her for her 62nd birthday last month. The food was okay, I guess, although I'm not a fan of that genre; however, the mango Margarita made up for it. Home at 7:00. Today is an off day--no social engagements--and I want to go into town. Tomorrow, T.O.P.S.,  then Diane and I will go to the museum celebration.  

 Yesterday was my sixty-fifth wedding anniversary: June 21, 1950, St. James Church. It's good to remember it and him, but where is that naive girl who thought the world began and ended with Ventnor City, New Jersey? 

O lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost, come back again. (Thomas Wolfe)