Dinner Party

Walked Kimball, did my Sunday thing, but once again, skipped my afternoon walk. I'm comfortable with that, though; I know I'll resume after the excitement is over.
I wet mopped the floor after preparing as much as I could for dinner. Put together the marinade for the salmon; cut, chopped, and sliced the fruit for dessert; took out the tablecloth and napkins from the linen closet; assembled the serving dishes and spoons; and otherwise prepared.
Happily, I was interrupted by phone calls: My brother, Jim, called, thinking he had talked to Betty on Saturday--just got it a little confused. I also talked to my sister-in-law, Terese; she's going through some tough physical problems herself. Betty then called and we had a good, sisterly talk. After, I called Frank and told him I'd be up in early December.
I'm grieving for Frank. When he first answers, he sounds so lively and upbeat, as he always did--full of exuberance. Then he starts talking about impossible ambitions: he's going to drive again, he's going to buy a--I'm not quite sure what he meant, but some kind of car. His children don't give him any chance to decide anything himself, and so on. I don't argue with him, let alone say it's for his own good. I just say, "boy, Frank, that's a bitch, isn't it?" and let him complain. Where did my confident, assured brother go? I can't believe he won't be back.
Anyway, my little dinner party was a great success. The salmon made a hit, Suzanne brought over-roasted potatoes, Ellen both Brussels sprouts (also roasted) and some fresh peas she shelled herself. We had good, adult conversation--nobody mentioned television or the cute little things their grandchild did. (Understandable, since I was the only one with such creatures.) All three of them are, or were, teachers: third grade, high school, and college, so had plenty to talk about. Suzanne had only water, El just a small amount of Chardonnay, and Jim and I polished off the bottle Carole gave me, plus some of another I opened (of course, he stayed longer).
Suzanne left with thanks, El, that sweet girl, cleaned up, then left about 8:30. Jim stayed until a bit after 9:00; we talked and talked, ranging over philosophy, religion, and the strictures on adjunct faculty. I found out he was an only child, born and brought up in San Franciso, and thinks he's seventy-six. Not sure? No, and he doesn't seem to celebrate his birthday, which is on April 29.
Anyway, I walked him back to the entrance, then polished off more of the dessert--mixed fruit--and went happily to bed.