My three Scrabble partners came over as expected and we had an enjoyable day. As hostess, I provideed had chocolate "goldfish," two kinds of whole grain pretzels, strawberries, and grapes. We played three games, then I served Milano cookies and coffee. They left about 4:30 and I cleaned up, took a shower, then went to rehearsal...
...to the wrong place. I had forgotten the crew had built the set at the Community Center over the weekend and I drove all the way to Barbara's. As soon as I spotted the house--no cars in the driveway--I knew my error. Chagrined, I sped back to the Community Center and was just a few minutes late.
The set is wonderful. You'd swear it was a real beauty salon that had been set up in a renovated carport, as the play specifies. Those behind the scenes LETCO members are just as important as the actors, that's a cinch. I was pleased to see that Desi S., the founder and first head of the acting company, was there. Ellen V. greeted me with a hug and kiss and so did he. Marge M. was also there for the first time--she's the wardrobe mistress--and I enjoyed seeing her, as well as all my pals in the cast.
It went okay, but boy, are they going to have to work hard now. Opening night is only nine days away and it's pretty ragged.
Talked to brother Frank, who's going to have a heart valve replacement next week. He's going to the Cleveland Clinic for it, and his two physician sons will be there. As my sister observed, "Boy, I'd hate to be the surgeon for that one."
Finally have a few days with nothing scheduled, and I want to do things I enjoy. Oops--come to think of it, when do I do anything else?

A mixed--but overall good--day when it came to activities. Spent some boring time cleaning in preparation for Scrabble here today, then hopped in the shower before attending a meeting for The Breeze newsletter. Several of us thought it bizarre--and cumbersome--to have residents other than staff members attend. There were four there and why they were there is hard to fathom; lots of talk, but not much got resolved.
At 4:30, I went next door to the D.'s and we drove to Point Pleasant Beach for the "Boss of the Sauce" event. It was held at a huge restaurant on the boardwalk and we met the R.'s there--they had been at a funeral upstate. Had to wait in a long line for about twenty minutes, but that was okay.
The place was jammed with people, and no wonder: It cost only $5.00 to get in and you could then sample pasta, sauce, desserts, and a few sides to your heart's content. In addition, they gave out FREE (free, free!) wine. I had red, white, and sparkling and you can be sure, accompanied it with plenty of food. Of course, everything was served in minuscule portions, but so what? You could have as much as you wanted and I did.
There were a few tables and benches on the porch overlooking the ocean, but I didn't sit down at all--just ambled around accepting the grub with appreciation.
Patrons got a ticket when they came in (although a computer was used) and the idea was to vote for their favorite restaurants. With all the crowds and what not, I couldn't remember which I thought was best--they were all good--so I just kind of arbitrarily picked one some woman had recommended.
Got home a bit after 8:00 after another "different" excursion that I greatly enjoyed. Life's a banquet and I want to indulge to the full.

The talk by Robert Meeropol was fascinating and the brunch was delicious. It was vegetarian and included a pate made with wild mushrooms, all kinds of interesting breads and pastries, a big bowl of cut-up fruit, and lots of other yummies, as well as good coffee and Chardonnay, of which I partook.
Meeropol and his daughter, an attorney, use these venues for fund-raising, and have done a lot of them. They don't give the impression that they're bored, superior, or practiced at glad-handing, but are warm, friendly people. He helped himself to brunch and chatted with attendees and she got me coffee. I didn't realize until they were introduced later who they were.
A music stand and chairs were set up in the dining room where, I assume, the usual furniture had been removed, and Meeropol spoke there. He covered a lot of the topics in his books, both of which I had read, and he was very engaging. He spent about half the time on his parents' story and the other half on his organization "The Rosenberg Fund For Children." He did not insist on his parents' innocence, but pointed out that the crime for which they were convicted was trumped-up and the punishment meted out--death--was inappropriately harsh. As I've mentioned before, it's generally accepted that his father did pr0vide the then-Soviet Union with "secrets," but they did not concern the atomic bomb. Also, this was during WW II, when the Soviet Union was a U.S. ally; Julius was passionate about the evil of the Nazi empire and wanted to help defeat them. As for Ethel, the consensus now seems to be that she was aware of her husband's actions, but had no part in them. If they had "cooperated" with the government, they would almost surely not have received the death sentence. All mixed up in this sad affair were the "red scare," anti-semitism (open and covert), and the heavily conservative mood of the time.
Meerpool's book, An Execution in the Family, was on sale for $10 and I bought one, adding $15 as a donation to the Fund. I had already read it--remarkably, our little library had a copy--but want to have it to go over again. The author signed it, added the date, and I chatted with him and his daughter for a few minutes.
Talk about a unique family. Imagine talking to a relative stranger and the subject turns to your parents' passings: "My father died of a heart attack, and my mother of cancer. Yours?" "They were executed on the same day by the United States government."
There's a conversation stopper for you.

Got to B.J.'s in the morning to pick up staples (for me yesterday, that was popcorn, pumpernickel, and avocados). Scrubbed the worst of the kitchen floor and mopped the rest. Did a few more cleaning chores to prepare for hosting the Scrabble group on Tuesday.
Pared and cut up a heap of sweet potatoes, did the same with apples, spinkled on some cinnamon, and put all in the big crock pot to slowly stew. Inspired, I then revved up the small slow cooker; julienned sweet red peppers, sliced up mushrooms and onions, and added chives and dill. Left everything to simmer and went to the cemetery, then Bob's. Bought some gorgeous double begonias, alyssium, and something else I don't remember. When I got home, I had a message from friend Mary H., called back, and we had a nice chat.
My crock pot goodies were delectable and I contented myself with just them for dinner--yum!

Not a whole lot going on, and it rained. I finished An Execution In The Family about the Rosenberg family. I'm excited about the fact that I'm going to meet the author tomorrow.
A scary note: I always read in bed before I go to sleep, and am continuing Stephen King's The Dome. For some reason, I'm having a hard time finishing it; I keep turning to other books, reading them, then going back to his. Maybe because it's over a thousand pages? But I'm accustomed to long books--Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States, was about as long and just read that. Anyhoo--the scary thing is, I can't remember what I read last night. It may come back to me when I pick it up again, though; hope so, as otherwise, I'm afraid I'm losing it.
Want to scrub the kitchen floor today and otherwise prepare for hosting our bimonthly Scrabble group on Tuesday.
WIDER: Chris Floyd, whom I frankly revere, writes in "Empire Burlesque" about the recent declaration from the White House that O. has the right to kill American citizens without indictment, trial, or proof of wrong-doing. Here he addresses those "liberals" and "progressives" who still wallow in the dear leader's divinity:
"Now, there can be no shuffling, no waffling on the matter. Obama has made it crystal clear for even the most avidly self-duping progressive: He will murder his fellow citizens without trial or evidence if he sees fit. The state can murder whom it pleases. This is the system we have. This is what you support when you support Barack Obama. You cannot escape this logic, this judgment. If you support Obama now, in this, then there is no crime he can commit that you will not support. And thus you become one of those people that we all used to puzzle over, the accomodationists to brutal tyranny: 'How did all those people go along with the Nazis? Why wasn't there more opposition to Stalin? How could they countenance all those obvious abominations? What kind of people were they?' Now you know. They were you. You are them."
Oh, yes, and I know so many of you.

I had a dream last night of my childhood home on Rosborough Avenue. This prompted me to drive down there for no particular reason. Annoyingly, the Dorset Avenue Bridge is still closed for repairs, which means you have to drive way out of your way to get on and off Absecon Island. However, it was another lovely day, so no matter. I just drove around; stopped at friend Mary H.'s, but she wasn't home, so I left a note. Parked at St. James and thought I'd stop in, but they were closed for Spring Break. Went across the street to Connie and Tom H.'s, but their tenant told me they were still in Florida. Okay, I was batting zero, so I drove back home, but somehow with a light heart.
I was stunned--and delighted--to find that Robert Meeropol's book, An Execution In The Family, was in my own little library, and I stopped to pick it up. It's absorbing and I'm looking forward to seeing him at the brunch in Ocean City. The idea that both your parents were put to death by your government when you were six years old is just mind-boggling.
Bob S. came about 3:30 to turn on the outside water and flush the sprinklers. He has to come back today to complete it.
Went to rehearsal. The particular scene they ran through hadn't been done before and it's very ragged. Guess it'll shape up. I took one of the big signs on Magnolias to put on my lawn. I don't think you're supposed to do this, but I'll leave it until some committee or other tells me it's not allowed.

Buzzed hither and yon on a busy, productive day. It was just like summer--sunny and up in the eighties, my favorite. Sweated out--literally--the three-mile walk at the clubhouse after our individual mile-and-a-half walk, then had breakfast. Typed out directions to the Community Center where "Magnolias" will be staged and attached it to the flyer. Drove to the Staples in Mays Landing to color-duplicate several of them, then to Eurocolor, my hairdresser, to distribute. When I got there, though, I was told they were moving to the new location (about 4 miles closer for me) on Tuesday, so I'll wait to drop them off.
Swung by Bob's and picked up the croaking frog I fell in love with on Tuesday. Idiot that I am, I put it on the front porch, where it will croak at people coming to the door. Stopped at the cemetery to dead-head the pansies on Pat's grave and cut a few wilting daffodils on Jay's. I've decided to dig up the daffs and plant a begonia or impatient in its place--something to last thorugh the summer.
After I got home, had some of the delectable lentil stew for lunch. Saw Barb D. and she reminded me of our sojourn to Point Pleasant Beach for the "Boss of the Sauce" contest on Monday. Stopped at Acme to pick up a few things, then dead-headed the pansies out front and hauled buckets of water to refresh the newly-planted forsythia out back. Bob S. turns on the outside water for me, charging half what Meticulous Lawn Service does, and I guess it's a little early. Found my air conditioner cover neatly folded on the porch and stopped over next door to thank Frank--he always does it. I was delighted to hear that the frog croaked at him.
After dinner--just a salad--I drove to the charming little library in Manahawkin. As I checked out (just got a DVD called "In Search of Shakespeare"), I saw an appeal for patrons to provide reminiscences of libraries they knew. I wrote about the Ventnor Library, right on the boardwalk. As a kid, I regarded it as a cathedral and I still do.
On Sunday, I'm going to attended a brunch in Ocean City for The Rosenberg Fund for Children, headed, intriguingly, by Michael Meerpool, the son of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, who were executed as Communist spies a half-century ago. More on this later.
Note: Took my blood pressure at Acme and was a bit alarmed to see it was 103/66, which I'm afraid is dangerously low. But I feel great and am still above ground, so maybe not. Will check it again.