Anne Mary

Picked up Susan for our usual walk and she asked me if I would take our neighbor, Anne Mary, to the bank, the p.o., and Wawa.  "Sure," said I, ever the cockeyed optimist.  Anne Mary had broken her hip on Good Friday, but luckily, was progressing well--had graduated from a walker to a cane, in fact, so had no obvious problems below the neck. 
Her mouth is the problem.  She never shuts up.  When I stopped in to tell her I could take her on her errands, she invited me to sit down for a bit.  First mistake: I did.  I was treated to a 30 minute monologue about getting her stitches out at her doctor's in Kenilworth, with a move-by-move account of how she guided the friend who ferried her up north to bypass the worst of parkway traffic, how they stopped for a bite after, how thrilled the doctor was at her progress, and so on and on and on...
That was just the preliminary.  I loaded her into the car and suffered through a lo-o-n-n-g, slow stop at the bank, where she repeated--but at least in truncated form--her saga of the stitches and stops up north to the teller, while a long line formed behind her.  Oblivious, she then asked for a mini-statement to be printed out and went through her checkbook with the long-suffering teller.  Finally finished, I asked how often she went to the bank and was incredulous to be told it was everyday.
The post office was more of the same.  She bought 27 dollars worth of stamps (60 of them), engaging the clerk in conversation while holding up everybody else behind her.  Then it was Wawa for her special treat, coffee--she insisted on treating me to one, also--and, finally home.  The three stops are within maybe a tenth of a mile of each other and would take an ordinary person about a half-hour total.  I didn't get Anne Mary home until noon and I had picked her up at ten.
After all that, not much went on except unpacking, washing, and generally getting back to normal after Baltimore.