Sunday

After the usual Sunday morning routine, I was pleased to get a call from Stella and we caught up with each other. She said she's feeling less isolated and depressed, for which I'm glad. Her son, Joshua, who lives in Spain, keeps urging her to come with him to Majorca, but she doesn't want to. I'd go there (or to Upper Japip or anywhere in a heartbeat, but nobody's invited me. I told Stel when she feels comfortable, to let me know and we'll meet somewhere outdoors. I then called Betty and we chatted--sort of--for awhile. She was waiting for granddaughter, Claire, to come over to play games. Betty's daughter and grandchildren are so attentive to her and that's good to know.

Put dried red beans, onions, saved "veggie juice," and seasonings in the smaller slow cooker, and let 'er rip. I love beans made that way and they're full of protein, too. 

After lunch, I took off for the park and the little library with my little cart. On my way, Ellen called and we had a good talk. I left off two books and two DVDs (Black Swan--it stank--and The Illusionist--fair, but labored) and picked up three books. 

My mother's birth anniversary was yesterday, as she was born on Valentine's Day, in 1902. Here she is as a bride:

I'm pretty sure the picture was taken a week or so before the wedding (on August 23, 1923), as my formal wedding picture was years later.  Anyway, she was 21. It boggles the mind to realize I now have a great-grandson not far from that age.