SUNDAY

 I spent some time cleaning up a few more things and prepared the appetizers for my little happy hour. I sliced the red and green sweet peppers into strips and paired them with the green pepper hummus Took the shrimp out of its container, along with the sauce, and laid them out on a platter. I added one of my baked apples, cut into slices. Also put out "Dot's Home Style Pretzels" and Ritz-like crackers. I decided not to add the lunchmeat turkey I had bought, as Suzanne is bringing meatballs.

Took a break and went out to the middle with my hard-boiled egg sandwich, IPA, and my Norman Solomon book. I'm absolutely absorbed with War Made Invisible. It's so utterly right on concerning our tendency not to question what we're told by government and media. Also, Vickie sent Suzanne and me the new Pope's address. It was pretty predictable how we should love each other, no matter what we may not have in common. I hope it wasn't just a string of cliches and that it will turn out to be a new era of peace.

Back home, I showered, washed my hair, and laid out what I could on the coffee table. Lit a few candles, even thought it was still broad daylight out--I just like the way they look. Vickie came at 5:30, followed Suzanne a few minutes later. Vickie brought some chocolate covered coconut candies, Suzanne appetizer turkey meatballs and, later, the makings for strawberry shortcake. I didn't need, nor did I particularly want the additions, but I appreciated the thought, so why not?

We three then proceeded to eat, drink (they brought their own non-alcoholic beer; I had my IPA), and generally have a great time. We talked and laughed for almost two hours, catching up with each other's lives, backgrounds, childhoods, thoughts, and hopes. Here we are, no beauties maybe, but inwardly, my two friends are gorgeous human beings:  

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I put this picture on Facebook of Betty (on the right) and me, as we were about to leave for a show on Ventnor Pier. There, we recited a little verse of mine about "a sailor boy." If I remember correctly--and I may not--it was a Tony Grant revue. We never went to his dance classes, but he allowed others to perform.  I actually remember posing for this picture on our side lawn, c. 1945.

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