Spent most of yesterday morning on the phone with Comcast, Allstate, and the other black-hearted pirates we allow to run our lives. It's pointless to go into detail, but the ordeal included missed connections, non-English speakers, and the usual reasons to just drop everything and move to Morocco.
All was forgotten, though, during a delightful lunch with Peg. We talked and talked and talked, then I followed her to her house. It's in a gated community, quite large, and has a lovely, flower-filled deck. There's an interesting layout, which includes the two bedrooms being in the front, so both master and guest are nicely private.
Stopped in Manahawkin after to get four big mums, cottage cheese, and more note cards. Today, I'm going to the cemetery; I need to straighten out some questions about the burial plot.
Wider: Jeff Huber, on Anti-War.Com, has a terrific piece called "Death By Bananastan," the last meaning, he says, "Pakistan and Afghanistan, our banana republic-style quagmire in Central Asia."
"It is just another example of how the Pentagon and its supporters (like Max Boot and the rest of the neocon punditry) are entrenching themselves as deeply into Bananastan as they are able while the country is distracted by the economy, health insurance reform, and the opening of the NFL’s regular season."
Wider On A Different Topic: A great letter on healthcare was featured in The Press of Atlantic City yesterday, by good friend and neighbor, Dennis R. Here's the link:
http://www.pressofatlanticcity.com/opinion/letters/article_fe8fa59a-ccdf-525a-b960-af6b414d46d0.html

Sandi showed up yesterday to rehearse, but Franklin didn't. There was some mix-up in communications, but no harm done, I guess. We'll met again on Wednesday, although Sandi will be away then. I promised neighbor Judy K. I'd pick her up, as she wants to join the acting class, too.
Got a troubling phone call from the daughter of my cousin, Bob F., from California. Karen had run her Dad's phone messages--there were 32 of them!--and wanted to be sure he had called me back. He had, and had extended his condolences, but I told her I was concerned at his evident confusion. Unfortunately, she told me, he seems to be slipping away. He's sleeping a lot and is eating too little.
Got a cheerier web call from Ellen, who got a new camera and sent me pics of her re-decorated house. Boy, it's great--looks brand new. I love the colors she picked for the walls, plus the new carpet. Can't wait to see it, which I hope will be before too long.
Meeting Peg for lunch at Hearthside today.

It was fun to see the show "Calendar Girls," last night, with senior citizen ladies hoofing away in and out of unison. The oldest, I understand, is 86. It kind of reminded me of what I read somewhere; can't remember the exact quote, but here's a paraphrase: "It was like seeing a pig ice-skating. The wonder wasn't that it was done well, but that it was done at all."
Saw a lot of people I hadn't since the funeral or before and felt ambiguous about the attention and expressions of condolence. In a way it made me feel warm and cared-about, but also somewhat isolated and "different." When I got home, I had a message from Barb D., inviting me to breakfast this morning. Of course, I accepted, but will be very, very careful about what I order. I'm expecting my acting class mates over at 2:00 and we'll start going over our scene from "Patio/Porch."
Wider: The show last night ended with the ensemble singing "Let There Be Peace On Earth." I wonder what, if anything, that actually means to those who sing it. Do they still consider themselves "patriotic?" Do they swell with pride at the sight of Old Glory whipping in the breeze? Do any of them think, say, of the recent NATO air strike in Afghanistan? Chris Floyd did yesterday in his blog "Empire Burlesque." He includes a cheery little quote from one of the villagers, a father, after he and his neighbors found it difficult to identify their incinerated loved ones: "I took some flesh home and called it my son."
Let there be carnage on earth.

Had a delightful dinner with Vivian last night--at Spiaggia e Luna in Barnegat. The name means "Beach Under The Moon," which strikes me as charming. I had fresh broiled lobster for the first time in years and it was great. Brought a bottle of pinot gregio, which we managed to polish off, and it was a wonderful evening.
Even better, I had a web cam call from the other Vivian. Adorable five-year-old thanked me for the elegant gift I recently sent her--a plastic cat that poops jelly beans--and I had a good time interacting with her and little Violet.
Earlier, I enjoyed phone visits with sister Betty, cousin Marifran, Ellen, and a few others. Wrote several more of the mountain of thank-you notes I intend to send and ran a few errands.
Tonight, I'm going with Susan and Walter to the clubhouse to see "Calendar Girls," a show with senior citizen dancers.
Later: Went back to Weight Watchers for the first time since August 15. Okay, here's the old "good news, bad news" thing: I'm up only .6 since then, almost a month ago--not too shabby, considering I've been eating without restraint. The bad news? I'm a full--gulp!--thirteen pounds heavier than I was at my lowest, which was 125. Yes, folks, I weigh 138 and oh, yes, folks, this has to be reversed and right away. Will continue to report honestly, even though it hurts.
I could excuse myself for blowing up like a balloon, considering recent events, but you know what? That wouldn't make the slightest difference to the hard science of too many calories equals too much weight, so I won't. To be continued...

Drove to Vineland--a fair distance, especially with my cockamamie directions from Google--to visit Pat's brother, Bill, in the hospital. He's in the cardiac unit; unfortunately, he's had a "bad heart" as it used to be scientifically called, for years. His wife, Regina, and daughter, Tish, were there and we had a pleasant time together. I brought some of the older pictures from the ones my children assembled to display at the funeral and Bill enjoyed them. Some were of a long-ago family picnic at Atsion Lake and we had fun trying to identify the babies who are now grandparents. My oldest was a year old then and of course, so many of those pictured have gone to that great perpetual picnic in the sky--or something.
I didn't get home until almost 6:00, but on the way, I reflected that it really didn't matter. There wasn't anyone waiting for me to make dinner or dispense medications.
Was awakened this morning by a terrific thunderstorm, with rain pelting the windows, and high winds. Hope it goes away by this evening, as I'm meeting friend Viv for dinner in Barnegat.
Wider: Here's a reassuring headline from Truthdig.Com:
"Insurance Stocks Rise After Obama Speech"
Well, thank heavens! I was afraid the poor healthcare insurance companies would be caught by the general mistrust--not to mention murderous rage--against them and would suffer losses. No such thing, though--whew!

Busy and enjoyable day yesterday. Went to Suzanne M.'s in Mt. Laurel to have lunch at her place with sister Betty and Helen C. Said goodbye to Betty, who's on her way back to California today. Got home after five and just had a cauliflower for dinner.*
Had my first acting class last night. Tara led the class of about twelve. Jane and I improvised a scene involving a valise and various objects, then we were assigned a "director" and did it over. We were also given short two-person scenes to rehearse and present next week. I play "Dot," an irritable old lady--hey, that's art imitating life--and Sandi, who lives nearby, plays my daughter. Considering the fact she's certainly less than 10 years younger than I am, it's a stretch, but okay.
Was asked to play Mz. Leeds, mother of the Jersey Devil, in the murder mystery show, and accepted with pleasure. Unfortunately, it looks as if the place we were going to have it wants to wait until April. Too bad, as it would be perfect right before Halloween.
Got a call from brother Larry inviting me to come to Florida for his and his huge family's annual Disney World trip. However, I may go to California, or possibly Singapore, so declined, but said I'd like to go after the first of the year.
Was frustrated when I got a "chat" message on Facebook from dear Delaware friend, Lynne C. because I don't know how to respond. Hope she'll fill me in and I hope we can meet for lunch soon, too.
* Well, Suzanne served a wonderful lunch of Salad Nicoise (that may not be the way to spell it; it's pronounced "Salad Knee-shwah"), using salmon instead of tuna, and I ate every scrap. Also had several glasses of white wine and dessert of angel food cake, berries, and whipped cream, so didn't want to add calories for dinner. Incidentally, I ate the entire whole head of steamed cauliflower--when I comes to veggies, I'm insatiable.

Weather continues dark and dreary. Went to B.J.'s and on a few more errands. Just read and poked around the rest of the day. Got a phone call from Dennis R. in the evening, asking if I needed or wanted anything. What wonderful friends and neighbors! In fact, I said I'd like to return Leslie's dish, which had contained a great bread pudding with brandy, and I went over after dinner. Enjoyed talking with them for 45 minutes or so. We think alike on the anti-war (pro peace) issue--one of the few--and deplored the fact the movement seems to have dropped dead, especially in our area.
Was pleased to be offered the role of Mz. Leeds in "Death at Old Barney, our murder mystery show on October 29. I accepted and must now start learning the lines.
Wider: Justin Raimondo, at Anti-War.Com, perfectly describes the craziness in which we now live:
"Google News has lately taken to labeling Antiwar.com’s new articles, including this column, as "satire." To take one particularly unfortunate example, an article* by Fred Reed on the furor over the photo of Lance Corporal Joshua Bernard’s tragic death in Afghanistan was so classified on the Google search engine. This, I believe, is proof positive of what I call the Bizarro Effect, a direct result of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. What happened was this: the sheer force of the explosion as those planes hit the World Trade Center and slammed into the Pentagon forced us into an alternate dimension where up is down, news is entertainment, and a rational critique of U.S. foreign policy is considered sheer amusement. Here in Bizarro World, everything is upended: not only our morals, but our grasp of reality, and, indeed, the concept of reality itself. "
And so on.
* I referred to this article in yesterday's entry.