Lunch, Tony, And Sweetie Pie

Went with Susan and Walter to The Breeze lunch at Tuckerton Grille.  We were a little late and the only seats left were at the end of the table next to Georgette S., whose eyes bulge out.  I can't remember what that might signify--high blood pressure?--but it's a bit disconcerting.
The rest of the editorial staff was there, too, as well as "feature writer" Norma H., whose pieces are interminably long and exceedingly dull.  Anyhow, it was a nice enough lunch.
Spent a lot of the rest of the day re-writing and adding to Aline's and my parts in Tony and the Heiress, then sent them off to Mary to be incorporated into the script.
I was delighted to get a phone call from Tristan--seven years old today--thanking me for the birthday gift I sent via Amazon (a remote controlled metal bug-type thing).
In the evening, I was doubly delighted to get a video call from the little dynamo, K., in Tokyo, so I was "there" while he had breakfast (they're twelve hours ahead).  He now pulls himself up and walks all around the furniture with ease, sometimes holding on with just one hand.  Very soon now, he'll let go and walk on his own--what a sweetie pie!