After Kimball and breakfast, I changed my bed and took sheets and clothes to the laundry annex. Realized I had enough quarters for wash, but not for dry, and didn't feel like driving to the bank, so went to the office, thinking Jim might keep a stash. Well, he doesn't, but he, Bianca, and Javier were all there and they pooled their change to come up with the five I needed. They refused to take the dollar I proffered, so I'll stop in and repay them with quarters when I have a chance.
While I waited for the clothes to dry, I continued my memorabilia project. Used one of the loose leaf books I bought for "early Byrne" documents. These include both of my parents' birth and death certificates, their marriage license, and letters from my Uncle Tom regarding the Pennsylvania property they sold.
I was pleased to get a call from Jeannie Painter (nee Dollard) and we had a good talk. She's worried about her paramour (well, that's what he is), John, who felt sick and went back to bed. He's 88, fer cryin' out loud, but he takes care of her and vice versa, you might say.
Went to the widder lunch and had a good time. However, I brought my tangerines, as I really don't want anything off the Sizzler menu. There were seven of us, including a newcomer named Ann. She's an R.N. at Los Postos(?) Hospital in Camarillo, and what an interesting person. She's the fifth of sixteen children, all from the same two parents and with no multiples--wow! Good conversationalist; her husband died two years ago, and she's the same age as my older son. Nancy was there and we confirmed our plans to go to the movie today, with wine after.
Did the town walk and stayed at the library for a bit. I was wearing only a light sweater and when I came out, it had dropped about 20 degrees--chilly.
I had left a tulip with a note for Suzanne and when I got home, she came over to thank me and stopped in for a bit. She asked if I would mind picking her up at the auto body shop on Friday, as she needs something done to her car. Sure, I'll be glad to--she's certainly been helpful to me.
2 comments:
In the 70s the Census Bureau coined a nicer term than paramour.
POSSLQ
Persons of the opposite sex sharing living quarters. Charles Osgood later wrote a poem for us POSSLQs which at the time Rich and I were.
Not sure the term is used much now, but I liked it at the time.
Patti, I don't think it's nicer! To me, POSSLQ seems a typically bureaucratic construct, as well as being vague, easily misunderstood, and carrying a strong whiff of censorship. Part of the time my older son was at Rutgers, he lived in a rented house with two girls; definitely POSSLQ, but there was no romantic relationship. My younger son and his now wife lived together for 12 years before they married. They were POSSLQ, too, and you can be damn sure there was plenty of romantic relationship. I guess my take on this is because I don't disapprove. In fact, I wish Pat and I had slept together before marriage, but we were too programmed by religion, society, and our own trepidation to do so. Well, water over the bridge...
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