The news on the weight front was mixed, as ever. At home, I was 127.8, for a gain of a whopping 2.4. At T.O.P.S.? 126.6, up a modest .02 from last week. Oh, well. It was a long "meeting"--more like a social group just chatting--and we didn't get out of there until after 10, so I was ravenous by the time I got my oatmeal.
I spent some time working up a new spreadsheet for our T.O.P.S. group. Nobody is very adept at that stuff and I'm sure not, but thought I'd try and it was pretty easy. Leader Lennie will be pleased, I know, and since there are so few in the group, it's no big deal to duplicate and distribute.
Wrapped the three DNA boxes, plus the dinosaur bag for Koushin. I waited until after lunch to hike to the P.O. and was pleasantly surprised that it wasn't as jammed as usual. The stuff for Singapore cost $62.10--ho, hum, I'll be reimbursed--and the nice guy at the P.O. showed me a kind of stiff envelope I could use for the Mr. K. gift, making postage only $7.30.
From there, I bused to the mall and Trader Joe's to pick up some cream sherry. I like to have a glass of dessert wine when Jim is here--he usually joins me--and he's coming again for lunch today. I just hard-boiled some eggs for sandwiches, plus will serve the crystal pickles, adding cake (stowed in the freezer) with blueberries and vanilla yogurt on top.
I was surprised to received a Facebook "friend request" from somebody named Mary Elizabeth Garapola. Who in the world was that? I was tempted to just reject it, but instead, Messaged her to ask if I knew her. It turns out that she is usually called "Mary Beth" and had graduated from Misericordia with Betty. Then I remembered her; she and Betty were good friends. I confirmed the friend thing and we exchanged a little back-and-forth. Mary Beth had eight children, then her husband died. She remarried 29 years ago and now lives in Florida.
Home by 4:00 and did this and that--I don't even remember what. I started musing about religion and something occurred to me: While Suzanne and I were talking the other day, she mentioned a friend of hers who's 97 and not in the best of shape. She remarked cheerily that she "wouldn't want to live that long." This kind of attitude always floors me and is one of the major objections I have to religion. I guess this is true of most of them, but I'm familiar only with Catholic beliefs. It's as if this life is just a little minor sojourn on the road to our real life, which is eternal. It stands to reason, then, that it senseless to try very hard for something, or put much interest in, or feel intense, about anything here. Why bother, it's over in the blink of an eye... I don't think all Catholics lean that way, but Suzanne seems to, whether she's aware of it or not. I still remember the catechism, tell us why we're put on this earth...
Gnashing of the Teeth Note: Again, my Jersey attorney emailed that there was an omission on the deed: The notary hadn't printed her name under her signature on page 4--damn! Well, at least, he said I can just do it myself, then yet again, send it to him. Will this crapola ever end? More to the point, are my four rapscallions worth all this travail? (Oh, okay, I guess they are.)
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