Eight o-clock is my usual time for breakfast, but having slept past that, I pushed it back to 10:00. I suppose I could have had it earlier, but I like to deal with the Internet beforehand. Since I was due at Dudley House at 1:00, I would have eaten at 11:45 or so, but wasn't hungry then, so just skipped lunch.
Got out my Victorian outfit, which is so cumbersome and heavy, I was glad the weather was fairly cool. As it always does, it took me about a half hour to dress and pull on my wig. Left early and got there early, as always. I helped docent director Lynne, get ready for the visitors and, sure enough, there was a family group of six coming up the porch stairs just at 1:00. I hadn't had a chance to study my "script"--it's been months since I had done this last--but most of it came back to me as I led people from one room to another, telling them the history and the and the Dudleys. Actually, we had quite a few come in; Lynne keeps count of how many. Besides my groups, there was an entire cub scout troop; luckily, Connie did that one, as children are often not the most attentive visitors.
We did have a little time to chat on the porch; I met "Fefe Chuy," who was born in China, but came here when she was very young. She's been all over Europe and Asia, including Singapore and Tokyo, and we had a good time talking about that. It was over at 4:00, of course, and I'm not "on" again until October, which is fine by me. I sped home to take off the outfit and get into comfortable clothes, then went to get bathroom cups and grapes.
As I approached Victoria and Telephone Roads, I saw a man in a wheelchair in the right-hand traffic lane. He looked vaguely Asian--something like Yul Brynner--and he had only on leg. He was dressed in what looked like black pajamas, but it may have been a karate outfit. He was gesticulating wildly and yelling at cars. As soon as I got to the store parking lot, I called 911 to report this and was told officers were already being dispatched to the scene.
I want to stop into the police department tomorrow and find out what happened to the man. But will I? I don't know; it's so easy to forget the mentally ill, whom we treat as if they're wild animals.
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