Sunday

I accomplished all my Sunday morning routines and rituals, to wit: weekly bone pill, wash sheets and remake bed, and--what I look forward to (to which I look forward--AAGH, I can't help myself!) all week, Mr. Frank Longo and his crossword puzzle. Now, I do get annoyed at times and this was one of them; I got all but one of the answers and that was the name of an current Australian band. I didn't know, I don't know, and what's more, I don't want to know. And how many people (kids, I'm sure) do the Sunday crossword puzzle, so why insert that type of question, Frank, tell me that...

Decided to indeed, go to the farmers market, so I packed my lunch and bussed there. As before, I greatly enjoyed it, and not although, but because of, the fact that I saw almost no other non-Latinos. I heard nothing but Spanish and that was cool, as the kids say. Bought broccoli, plums, and those beautiful big tangerines I like so much. I joked with the owner, who charged me "cinco uno" and something, then repeated it in English, seeing me for the gringo I am. "I know 'cinco' means 'five' and 'uno' 'one,' I declared, "but that's about all I know!" Ate lunch at the picnic tables set up and watched another culture walk by.

Home by 1:00, hung out for an hour, then showered, washed my hair, and got ready for Lora to pick me up. She did, and we went off to see Red, yours truly for the second time. It was as intense as before and again, I marveled at the high caliber of acting--well, it was Mike and Ben, after all--and the questions the play posed about art.  Did it answer them? No, I have to do that and so does everybody else.  

Home by 8:00 and I'm looking forward to Priscilla today and Carolyn tomorrow.