Friday

Astoundingly, I was again the biggest loser at T.O.P.S., going down to 125.8 for a 1.4 pound loss.  (Home, I was an even 125 for 2 pounds off.) Now I'm at the bottom of my comfort zone (125 to 130), which is--yes, indeedy--a comfortable place for me to be. As for the meeting, it was much more a therapy session than anything else, once Bev suggested we talk about how we handle stress; her husband is contemplating serious surgery and she has her hands full. We shared our ways to cope as well as we could and it was interesting. Sharon brought a big bag of lemons from her tree and I took some home to use and share. leader Lennie asked me to come up with the eight different "inspirational" adages and sayings for the weeks in March. No prob and if I can't come up with some that aren't too horribly insipid, I'll make them up myself. 😜

As usual on Fridays, I didn't sit down to breakfast until 10:30, a full three hours later than my norm.  After that and a cryptogram session, I went to Von's for tartar sauce and citrus. I had toyed with the idea of walking to The Market, but it was so chilly and windy, I nixed that. Lunch at almost 3:00.

Noreen called to say she's be willing to skip her regular Scrabble and/or pinochle day in order to see Poor Things. We decided on Monday at Century 10 in town, with lunch first at the Immigrant Son restaurant, right next door.  

My upstairs neighbor, Mike, rang my bell and gave to two big, beautiful avocados. I offered him some of Sharon's lemons, but he had already harvested from his own tree upstate where he has a house. Will give some to Suzanne and Vickie, and take some today for Diane.

We're supposed to have heavy rain, starting tomorrow and continuing for several days. I already have Uber picking me up for Primary Medical on Tuesday, but think I'll call to have them take me home, too. I'm writing this at 6:00 pm on Friday night and just took this from my kitchen window. Looks ominous--is it a portent of things to come?

                                  

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Things to come: My niece texted me at 7:00 last night to tell me my brother, Frank, who turned 89 last month, is on his deathbed. He has been in a memory care facility for several years and suffered a stroke last week. It's strange that I feel so little--icily calm, maybe. He may be gone as I write this at 3:00 am. The bell's been tolling for the Byrne family, that's a cinch, and I wish I wouldn't keep hearing it. Later: went back to bed and slept  maybe two more hours. Got up a few minutes ago, not as much as usual, but that still totals about six and I feel okay.