Sunday

Crossword was so-so, but not one of his best. After I had finished, I impulsively called Noreen on the off chance she could meet for lunch. She could--great, and we decided on Lure Fish House at 12:30. 

Shortly after that, my niece, Joan, called from Jersey. In July, she and Jim had moved from Florida to White House Station, out in the pinelands of Hunterdon County. I've been there, but can't remember why. Anyway, we talked at length about family matters and Joan said she''s sending me her new book, Aiming High. She had sent it to me electronically as she wrote it, asking me to correct any errors of our family's history, which I did, plus a few typos. I'm much impressed with the cover, as seen below. The representation of the marriage and certain personalities? Not so much. 

Joan said she was having the book, in paperback, sent to me as a gift. There are a lot of family pictures in it, many of which I've seen, but some not, and I'm looking forward to them.** We talked at length about some family issues, too, until I had to leave to meet Noreen. 

I did so, busing into town, and we had a fine time, as ever. Noreen is one of the few people with whom I can disagree. She's a Trump hater, as so many of my friends are, yet she has no animosity toward those of different persuasions.* Anyway, we were there for more than two hours, talking and talking, but also eating with pleasure. I had sand dabs, which I've never had anywhere else (actually, I've never heard of them anywhere else) and, accompanied with sides and a good MadeWest IPA, it was yum.  

Parted about 3:00, stopped in a few stores, and took the 16 home. When I got in, I cored and seasoned the three apples I had left and baked them in the oven. I've been eating them as a as a bedtime snake recently.

Before dinner, I added a lantern to my little Halloween display outside, setting my phone alarm to remember to turn it off. Here's the current arrangement:

 

* I'm sure as hell not a Trump fan, but I consider the scum in Washington with the ability to decree death around the world as the devil's cohorts.  

** Interestingly, her brother, my nephew Dave, has also written a book, this one a fictionalized version of his father's sojourn from birth in pre-WW II Germany, to death in New Jersey. (At least, he labels it fiction.)