Luau for the aged

They had a "Luau" here today. It was them "monthly" family social event. This gave the old folks a focus for several weeks, 'cause they got to make signs and table decorations and party favors and stuff. (Just like in day camp or Vacation Bible School Small children and old people are often treated the same. I wonder if that was the actual basis of the movie Benjamin Button? It wouldn't bother me a bit if one of these old coots started growing younger every day and ended up looking like Brad Pitt.

Had I planned this party. it would have been a lot better. (Remember, I learned to do this from David Willis, and his parties and events were legendary!) Sunrise had lots of paper decorations, and they served BBQ ribs and chicken and fresh fruit. Beyond that, it fell short. They greatly needed Hawaiian music in the background, and some kind or Hawaiian entertainment after dinner, (a ukulele player? A Hawaiian songs sing-along? Hula lessons? They sell videos of how to do this. Hawaiian bingo? (meaning bingo with things like pictures of palm trees or leis, instead of letters.)

Rum beverages served in cocoanut shells would also have been appreciated!

Unfocused day

I went to church this morning to assemble bulletins. It got me out of here. Thenk God that I at least have something to do once a week. (Ha, ha! A double meaning! Get it? "Thank God" like the expression, and "Thank God" like, if it wasn't for God, I wouldn't have any bulletins to fold! Which is what I was doing.

I think I am easily amused.

As in yesterday's blog post, the Metro Access driver spent the entire trip evangelizing. Yesterday was Muslim, though, and todays was Christian. The driver attends the Spanish evangelical church that meets in my church building 3 nights a week. He's studying something having to do with computer networks, so he'll probably make lots of money some day. His evangelizing was not just evangelical "born again" shit, but was atually sort of thought provoking. At least from him it was, because he was never preachy, just kind of empathetic and exhausted.

He looked a lot like a Latin Jerry Lewis (before Jerry Lewis got fat!).

When I got back here, there was a HUGE thunderstorm. I sat out on the front porch and watched it pour, and that was kinda cool.

movie

The movie was pretty good, except that I was completely confused most all of the time. The whole thing occurs in different layers of the subconscious - but I never quite knew which character's subconscious. Or if maybe it was really happening. Were we in Leonardo DiCaprio's dreams every time we saw the children?... or the ex-wife? When was it happening in reality? I figured it was real when I saw them all asleep in the back of the car, and also when the toy top fell over at the end. So I guess that means he really did get back with his kids....?

So what if I didn't understand the movie. The nachos were great.

The Metro Access driver on the way home tried adamantly the whole time to convert me to Islam. He says that, through the whole tsunami, not one mosque was damaged. Not even a pane of glass was broken. We also never hear of hurricanes in the mid east because God put up a barrier in the Mediterranean sea that keeps the hot and cold water from mixing. He wrote down web addresses for me to investigate and learn more, but none of them are valid addresses.

Languishing

Languishing.

That's the word that comes to mind when I attempt to describe what I'm doing today.

Although, to be honest, I have only a vague sense of what the word really means. It just feels right. Lets look it up. Humm... per Miriam Webster, definition #1 is : to be or live in a state of depression or decreasing vitality." However, definition #4 is "to assume an expression of grief or emotion appealing for sympathy". Which sort of gives "languishing" a greedy motive.

So I guess I'm over it.

Part of my problem is that I have nothing to do today and nothing really to do tomorrow. BUT, since I'm lucky enough to live in the DC area, I can plan something to do tomorrow. I'll check the weather. Hmmm... Tomorrow is hot again. "Generally sunny. Hot. High 93F." It's been really hot for the last week. That very much keeps me indoors - 'cause this disease incapacitates me in the heat.

So it's a bad day to do the Smithsonian. Drat. I kinda want to see the Norman Rockwell exhibit at the American Art Museum.

And yes, of course, the way to talk one self out of a bad mood is not to think of all the things one would like to do but for some reason can't.

And there are lots of them.............

(languish, languish...)

I think I'll go to Tysons and see Inception in Imax at 12:45. I'll go early and shop some and get lunch in the food court.

Metro Access Tale

My driver yesterday was about 10 minutes late. This struck me as strange, because the ride was for Sunday morning at 7 AM, and there usually aren't that many scheduling conflicts at such an unpopular time.

When the bus finally showed up, the driver apologized and said he had been all the way up in Montgomery County Maryland when they added me to his list. That is a real problem I see with Metro Access and a way Metro seems to be wasting lots of money. The dispatching system needs to be fixed! I've had them drive way off in the wrong direction because that is the way the GPS sent them, and then double back and detour up and down neighborhood streets before taking me where I'm going.

Anyway, this guy couldn't figure out how to hook up the GPS at all. He got my wheelchair tied down, told me that it was his first day (dios mia!), and pulled to the end of the drive way. The GPS said, "Make a U-turn in 20 feet." There was not 20 feet of road ahead. The driver sputtered incoherently, and I said, "Turn the GPS off and I'll just tell you how to get there."

We did fine for a long while. I stopped paying attention. Then he suddenly slams on the brakes and starts frantically repeating, "Now what? Norw what?" I look out the window and see that we are at an unmanned, automatic tollbooth.

He should have gone to a manned one, of course. where they have a form to fill out.

He says franticly, "What do I do?"

I say, "Just drive through it".

So we did. Of course the alarm rang. He'll probably be ticketed later.

But do you blame me?

Lots of cats

How does it feel
How does it feel
To be on your own
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown
Like a rolling stone...

Like a Rolling Stone - Bob Dylan


Man, what a poet.

So, back to Harrisonburg.

Buzzita worked to Roses in Harrisonburg as the loading dock manager. She actually loved her job. She worked independently and got to organize the warehouse and boss around the crew and flirt with the truck drivers. At least that's the way I always perceived it.

I, on the other hand, hated my job, I was, after all. a University graduate working at Roses in Harrisonburg for next to minimum wage. It was my own fault... I think I'll just have to let it go at that. It happened.

Anyway, I was "advertising manager, which was a job a the manager sort of made up. because I had an administrative assistant job offer from Bridgewater College, at the same pay, and he wanted to keep me on as a cashier. The cashier cupervisor would call me on the intercom to cashier if they got busy at the front. (Which I hated!)

The cool parts about being advertising manager were:
1. I got a large shared office in which I could smoke like s chimney.
2. My job was fun and creative. The manager gave me a list of stuff he was putting on sale and the prices. I took a large piece of "newspaper layout paper" and pasted the ad together using little pictures I'd accumulated of the various products. Then I had a large piece of transparent tracing paper on which I would write in the prices and copy I wanted the newspaper to print up and stick on the layout paper in the various spaces. Isn't that a kind of cool job? I bet they don't do it like that anymore!
3. After the newspaper had the page laid out. I got to go down to their office and check it before they printed it.

Buzzita and I got to be best of buddies, and sort of "partners in crime" through all this. I spent every weekend at her house because we could party there and I lived with Mom and Dad. Here ia a picture of Buzzie:

Here is George, her husband:


Juanita had 9 indoor cats in a very small house. Here is a picture of my brother covered by cats after he slept over one New Year's Eve.



Here is a picture of my sister covered by cats after she slept over that same New Year's Eve




I think Juanita just kind of collected cats, brcause she never acted like she really liked any of them. I've read about cat hoarders She never abused the cats, though, she just didn't seem to really like them.

I worked on my picture project all morning, which brought into focus thoughts about yet another odd period of my life. This one involving country Western music. (Which I've never really cared for). And lots of cats.

When I got out of college, I moved in with Mom and Dad. I had, after all, thrown their good money away by double majoring in drama and religion, which rendered me totally unemployable.

Dad was at Asbury UMC in Harrisonburg, VA. My brother was a senior at Randolph Macon in Ashland, VA. My sister still lived at home and attended Harrisonburg High School as a Junior/Senior.

I. being unemployable, spent my time sending out blind resumes to companies that probably weren't hiring and, if they were, probably wouldn't hire a person who was so unwise as to get a double drama/religion major. I also worked at Roses. I started as a cashier and eventually got promoted to something that didn't pay more and was a job the manager just kind of made up because he didn't really know what to do with me and he knew that, to keep me, he had to give me something other than cashier.

More tomorrow. It gets better, really! You haven't heard about the country music or cats yet!!

SONG

TO: LEAVIN’ ON A JET PLA,NE

No, my bags aren’t packed but I’m ready to go.
I’ll buy new clothes in a second hand store.
No need to tell the staff or say good bye,
Now the crew’s arrivin’, its early morn.
Usually I would feel forlorn.
Instead I am so giddy I could fly.

So kiss me and smile for me,
I’ve decided to be free,
All I need’s a place to plug my chair.
It reclines, so I can sleep.
I’ll bet that I can eat cheap.
Oh, babe, I’m glad to go.

smile

I don't know... It seems like, just when I'm totally bummed out and realize anew that nothing fun is ever going to happen in my life ever again, something trivial comes along and saves the day. Like now, for instance. I'm sitting at my computor wondering what to write in my blog. All I've done this morning is so to church and assemble bulletins. But there is a positive side even to that - namely, I got out and wasn't here!!! Most of the "inmates" haven't been through the door to the outside in months, or even years!

Actually, I don't understand that at all. Some can't get out, of course. But, of those who can and sometimes do, it seems that they would prefer to stay inside and bitch and whine that their child doesn't come by and take them out enough, than to try and get out themselves. I'm talking anout the capable ones, not the decrepit ones. So who is to decide who is capable? Damned if I know... I guess the people themseves, which just shoots my whole argumet to hell, doesn't it? Oh well... Never mind...

We do have one nice old chap who spends every morning sitting on the porch. That seems perfect to me. because he gets out and enjoys watching all the activity around him and being part of the world, yet he doesn't push himself beyond his capabilities.

I guess the major point behind what I'm saying is that one has to learn to take pleasure in whatever is offerd. There is potential to find small pleasures just about everywhere. The triviality that save my day this afternoon is that 2 pretty butterflies met in the bush outside my window and danced around a while

When you gotta go...

Sometimes it takes balls to do it, but you go anyway. And the longer I'm here, the more I've realized how valid this is. I know I go bonkers if I spend a full day here. Thank GOD for Metro Access! My friend who lives next door, Bill, from Park Towers, is always rolling outside. He would be a great candidate for Metro Access, but he has memories of me waiting in the Park Towers lobby for Metro Access for hours and them never coming. This was five years or so ago. Once they got sued, they got better. He has no place to really to go when he gets outside so he just rolls around the outside perimeter of the building and talks to people on the street for a bit and then rolls back in. I've even seen him sitting out in the middle of the sidewalk next to the front street, waiting on someone to walk past. One day he rolled down to the Fire Department. It is right up the street from here.
They gave him a Police insignia which he PROUDLY wears on the back of his wheelchair. I wonder if he is waiting for a chance to pull me over for speeding past in my wheelchair??

One woman who is here has asked for information about Metro Access. I printed her off an application. I hope she follows through on it. She is cognizant and aware, which is a rarity here, and she wants it to go get Chemo treatments. Unlike me. I want it just to get the hell out of Dodge. That's OK for me to do that, though. The people who ride the inaccessible metro buses around don't have to justify their reason for taking the bus! After all, when you gotta go...

Which brings me back to the actual reason for this blog entry. It is chihuahuas, which inspired me to find a funny picture of a chihuahua peeing on a tire, which led me into all the "When you gotta go" stuff. All I ever really meant to do was talk about chihuahuas. My friend Susan Craft's 15 year old son bought home a sickly and ailing chihuahua and wanted to keep it, so she said OK. About a week later the dog delivered 7 babies! I went and saw them yesterday. They are ADORABLE. The haven't even got their little eyes open yet! They are just about the size of the palm of your hand. Mostly they are brown with a little white, but two are mostly white with a little brown. She thinks they are pure blood chihuahuas, born of an incestuous relationship between the mother and her brother.

Facebook

In my post Another High school's Friends, I was writing about High School friends who had emailed me from Facebook. I worked one summer in 1975 for the father of one of them, Colleen O'Brien. He was a professor of medicine at UVa . His work all had to do with programming on this big mainframe computer that was so large that it filled an entire room. I guess that was before PCs had even been invented yet. The way I assume I got the job working for him is that I needed a summer job, and Colleen asked Dr. O'Brien if he might could hire me, and he asked if I was smart, and silly Colleen said "sure", and so he hired me. He unfortunately regretted it for the rest of the summer. As probably anyone reading this blog knows, I know a lot of humanities type stuff, but math and technology (or, in other words, anything at which a person can actually make money) baffle me. I spent the summer retyping Dr. O'Brien's address book and making him cups of tea. For some reason, he didn't rehire me the next summer.

Think what a revolution in computers has taken place in the 35 years since. There were 64 years between the 1st manned flight and the moon landing. I'd say this was comparable, wouldn't you? Wonder what the next 30 years will bring?

Photograhs and Memories

I spent all day today today looking at old photos. I wasn't feeling maudlin, there is a reason I'm doing this, but I can't tell you now. I'll fill you in on it in about 2 weeks.

Here are some of the ones I've found so far:


David and Mom and Dad and me and Sue at the Kennedy Center one Christmas




Siblings at Hatteras

This has been a rotten afternoon. I folded bulletins at church this morning, which was something to do, but then, when I got back, I asked for someone to help me change clothes and to help me sit on the toilet. Well, they don't like to help me sit on the toilet, because they don't have much practice at that. (The old people often aren't able to sit on the toilet.) I usually have been able to get there by myself by using available grab bars, but this week I haven't been able to do it. Too hot outside? Anyway, these caretakers were so totally incompetant at it that I ended up sobbing uncontrollably, mainly because I've been warned that, if I criticize the caretakers again, they are kicking me out. Actually, that would be good - it would light a fire under my lazy ass.
(I suppose it would be difficult to put one's ass on the toilet were there to be a fire under it.)
(Of course, one might feel like one has a fire in one's ass, but I'm entirely too much of a lady to talk about that...)
Anyway, I really got to get out of here. Don't you think that a nursing home administrator who had any sense would take up for a customer who paid $6,000/mo to live here as opposed to a thin skinned employee who was being paid minimum wage to assist the paying customer? God knows I've been upset at times, for good reason. I'm a paying customer, though, and the administrator's efforts should be focused on keeping me happy, not on keeping me docile. Believe me, that is not the same thihng. Were I to be happy, I'm lazy and unmotivated enough to keep paying tons of $$ to live here for a long time. As it is, though I know I have to get out of here soon. So thanks, Sunrise!

Non event

Apparently there was a minor earthquake in the DC area at about 5 AM. I got up at 6, it is now about 7, and for the last hour, the TV news has been full of nothing else. The problem is, once they say "Magnitude 3.6 Quake Shakes Washington Area", then they have nothing else to add, but yet they feel obliged to keep talking about it. They, of course, need to repeat that statement over and over all morning, because people tune in at different times, but we don't need to hear from a plethora of "men in the street" the details of whether or not they felt it and what they were doing at the time. But maybe I'm wrong... Maybe that is the sort of vital news that the average viewer is anxious to hear about.. Should I call in and report that I was awake but in bed and did not feel it at all. It seems like the kind of thing that Joe Krebs would want to know!

another high school's friends

Lloyd came back this morning to help me get started on facebook. That sure could eat up a lot of time! Of course, time isn't exactally in short supply here...!

2 of my good friends from Charlottesville High had found me on Facebook and sent me messages. That's pretty cool! I never thought I'd hear from either of them ever again. It will be great if I can follow up with them.

I spent the first summer after high school working in the office of the father of one of them. He was a medical doctor who taught aspiring medical doctors at UVa Medical School.

Friends

My dear friend Lloyd came up to visit on the train yesterday and is coming back tomorrow! Ain't that great? Lloyd and I met back in about 1970 when I was in 9th grade, Lloyd in 8th. I met him when I moved to Colonial Heights the summer before Ninth grade and knew nobody. Then I met Lloyd and Bobby Tyler and Dean Scott and we became our own little clique. Figures, huh? Me and three gay boys.... But I couldn't have been luckier!! In our younger years we hung out some, but I moved two years later (preacher's kid, you know!). I went to UVa solo in 1975, but in 1976 Lloyd and Bobby enrolled, and Lloyd has been my dear pal ever since. Lloyd is a pharmacist - although I juvenilly told the staff here yesterday that he is a drug dealer! I thought that was funny. Lloyd is real understanding about such juvenile shenanigans. Aren't you, Lloyd? Huh? Lloyd? LLOYD?

Changing the subject, Bobby ended up teaching drama at the University of Georgia. At least I think that's what he does. Here is his picture.

Lloyd and I went to visit Bobby twice about 15 years ago (or more??!) when Bobby was living in San Francisco. We went on many cool excursions while we were there, like to Carmel and to Yosemite, where we actually camped in a tent cabin. Bobby had some kind of theater job at the time, and he'd spent the previous week escorting Joyce Van Patten around in his little car (was it a beetle?), and she, of course. sat in the front passenger seat, so Lloyd and I spent the week playfully trying to finagle things so that we could occupy what we called the "Joyce Van Patten Seat of Honor".

I get by with a little help from my friends...

I am completely psyched, Lloyd, my dear friend, is coming up tomorow on the train, (he lives in Richmond) then metroing here to East Falls Church, which is less than 1/2 mile away from wher I live, and walking over. AND he is doing the sme again Thursday! Ain't that just cool as shit? Here is a picture of Lloyd, me, and George, Lloyd's partner, at one of their daughter's weddings. Lloyd is on the left, George is on the right, and I am the one in the middle with the yellow teeth.
George had three daughters with his first wife, that he and Lloyd raised. It was beautiful at their weddings, because they both walked them down the aisle together, and both "gave them away".

preoccupied

I went to church out at CTS today. I really don't know why I continue going all the way to Reston to go there. I don't really care to speculate, either. I know that, if I didn't go there, I wouldn't go anywhere. I know I admire their welcome statement.

A minor part of what the guest preacher spoke about today had to do with an Ethiopian eunuch. I forget what this had to do with anything else he was talking about, but it totally blew my feeble mind. Perhaps, if this is all I'm going to get out of a sermon, I should give up and just quit going?

See, the thing is, a long while ago my sister and I, (but mainly my sister), used to be good friends with Ethiopians, none of whom had any physical problems at all. Here is a picture of Nega. So, my mind being minuscule, I heard the sermon with my ears, while my mind was preoccupied with the concept of Ethiopian eunuchs!

I know what you are thinking...... But I don't want to quit going to church! It gives my life meaning and structure to have something to do for one hour a week!

Dad sick

Dad was in the hospital and got out yesterday. That's alrways pretty scary. They gave him quite a few heart tests and never found anything actually wrong, (he had quintuple bypass surgery back quite a few years ago) so that is great news! Dad just didn't feel right, and Mom said he'd been having bizaare symptoms, so she brought him to the ER). I, being a virtual fountan of medical knowledge , have decided its that outrageously huge combination of medicines they perscribe for him every day. Apparently the doctor thought so, too, because Mom says they cut his the amount of medicine he takes in half. Mom says Dr. Bartram will have a fit, but I'm beginning to wonder if Dad might should not get another doctor. Dad has never liked him. He only goes there because he's Mom's doctor (he's a GP), but there are lots of doctors in Falls Church.

Probably it would actually hhbe much easier on Mom & Dad if they would just decide to go ahead and move to a retirement home. Mom keeps saying, "What would I do there", and that is a legitimate question. All their lives Mom and Dad have worked their tails off keeping the house running smoothly. Remember, it really wasn't really their house. Until recently it was the parsonage, and they kept it constantly spotless lest church members drop in. She could sew, I guess, and keep their ward robe in shape. She could travel about and visit stuff like I do, but that gets to feeling rather purposeless after awhile. Hopefully a good assisted living place like the Hermitage offers programs and classes and stuff. Hmmmm... I just looked at their website, and it looks grest. They say, "Support groups, prayer groups, and worship services help meet spiritual needs; a variety of leisure activities, including ceramics, watercolor, basketry, weaving, knitting and even poetry..." They further say, "Lecture series and cultural events are popular. Being only 10 minutes from Washington, DC’s finest museums, galleries, and performing art centers, bus trips are conveniently planned so residents may take every opportunity to enjoy these events." It actually sounds wonderful, and right up their alley. My brother was going to take all their financial info and figure out if they have enough money. I hope they do. They have a minimum age of 63, or I'd move.

imax

One thing I forgot to mention about the movie Eclipse is that I paid extra for the enhanced imax version on the imax screen at Tysons. At first it didn't really enhance the experience because I was concentrating so much on seeing what difference imax would make. Later, though, there were some landscape shots in the forest and with the mountains as background where the cinematography was so beautiful, due to imax, that it was breathtaking. Ron is one of those people who can't see 3-D. There was an article about this phenomena in the Post the other day. I wonder if he can see imax?

hot day at the mall

It was record breaking hot yesterday (102-103 degrees) so I went to Tysons Corner mall. Spending a day in the mall is a GREAT way to beat the heat!

First thing I did was go to the Apple Store. I've been thinking about getting an iPad, basically because they place me in my chair at night and I don't have access to a computer for the rest of the evening. The Ipad is so small I could use it in my chair. Ron warned me to try it first, and I'm glad he did, because Apple is so different from Windows, that I really don't think I want to put in all the time which would be required to learn it. Maybe Microsoft sells something similar?

The other thing I did was go to see the pre-teen hit movie Eclipse, which is part of the Twilight series. I hadn't seen any of the other movies, and really didn't know anything about them, but I must admit that I actually really enjoyed this one. It was basiclly about a girl's choice between a cold intellectual vampire and an incredibly hot sexy werewolf as potential mates. I won't tell you who she chooses, in case you see the movie. There is also a silly meaningless war at the end of the movie with some out of town vampires and werewolves.

werewolf

vampire

Heat aint fun with MS

I went to a new Chipolte restaurant they built in the shopping center right down the street from me. It was great! And inexpensive! I had a chicken burrito bowl, which was all the ingredients of a burrito, but in a bowl rather than wrapped up. I paid extra for guacamole, and the guacamole was wonderful.

It was 100 degrees out, though, and I got entirely too hot, because I also went to the doctor and got my shot, and to CVS to get "I miss you" cards for my sweet nieces, and to the toy store and got Crazy Bands to put in my niece's' cards. (They love Crazy Bands. It is the latest fad among the kindergarden set!)

Heat is deadly for MS. When I got home I tried to do stuff, but really wasn't capable. I couldn't even begin to type on the computer. All of which scared me, and I got to wondering what I was going to do if the disease ever progressed to the point where I was always like that... So I turned on a Rolling Stones movie and lost myself in a fantasy of drugs and rock & roll.

Just be glad

This is a kind of a nothing day. During the time when I ought to have been planning something to do today, I decided, "I don't need something specific to do. After all, I will have just done a whole lot of stuff over the weekend." But then the day rolls around, and here I am sitting in this fucking old folks home with nothing to do and nowhere to go... Hmmmm - I don't think I took my Cymbalta today...

The good part of this (as Ron keep reminding me!)is that I do live in the DC area, not in Bumfuck USA, and there is a whole lot of stuff to do here. And, better yet, it's mostly all free!

I first heard the expression "bumfuck" back about 15(?) years ago when Granny passed away. Ed and Sue (my brother and sister) and I and Dayna (who is now my sister-in-law, but, at the time was just Ed's girlfriend) all drove up to PA in one small car. When we got there, it was dark, and we were told to follow Mom and Dad to my cousin Sandy's house. Tuns out she lived a good distance away. Dad has always driven like a maniac, so there we were, flying down these country roads in the dark, all of us dragging like true nicotine addicts on cigarette after cigarette because Sandy is a real goody two shoes and would never allow smoking.

Anyway, it was a LONG, nerve wracking trip. We were all exhausted, and were flying after Dad down a myriad of country roads in the dark, with the four of us all scrunched into a tiny car. Dad slowed down for a second, so we all got our hopes up that maybe we were there, and then he took off in another direction. Our hearts sank in disappointment, and little Dayna, who had not said practically a word the whole trip, piped up and said, "Sandy lives in bumfuck!"

So thank God I don't live in bumfuck.

bah, humbug

Today is the 4th of July. I'm kinda disappointed with myself, because I've just sort of let it come and go, and have not been persistint enough to ensure that something really fun happened. Ed and Dayna and the girls came down, so we had a nice "indoor picnic" in Mom and Dad's condo. Ron and Shirley and Martha were there (and Sue!) I guess "really fun" would have been to go some where to see fireworks - even George Mason High School. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that Ed, Dayna, and Sue had taken the girls there. Had I planned in advance, I probably could have made that happen.

Back in the olden days I used to go to the fireworks with Susan Craft and Rudolfo. It was great fun. We didn't go until late afternoon. Susan is a very aggressive driver, and she always found (or made!) a parking place for us in that circle at the VA end of Mem Bridge. We would walk over the bridge, and watch the fireworks sitting right under the Washington Monument. It was breathtaking.

In later years, Sue and I went just to sit on the Mall drinking beer during the day time, and eat and watch people. We usually left before the fireworks because we weren't sure how to get home after them. Had we been patient, we could have waited out METRO, but no, not the Taylors! Usually we just went home on METRO at about 4:00or 5:00 (or, in other words, wimped out!). One year, though, we saw the fireworks, and had Nega, an Ethiopian, with us and were able to bribe an Ethiopian cab driver $60.00 to bring us back. This was in the good old days before wheelchair transport was required. That was the year we saw a hooligan throw a cherry bomb under an occupied Port-a-John. Good thing the person using it didn't have a lot of gas or there would have been an explosion. (Ha, Ha! That was a joke!)

Aunt Agnes

I just got an email from my Aunt Brenda, Mom's sister. Aunt Ag was my Memaw's (Mom's Mom)only sister, Ray was their brother. Memaw was named Maxie. Brenda said, "Junior just called about 11:30 pm and said Agnes had passed peacefully in her sleep...what we had prayed for...I talked to Raney about 5:30 and she said Agnes had been referring to 'seeing my sis and let me go with my sis' today...so I think mom met her in her transition....Rayetta had said that Ray had seen mom and yelled MAX (when he journeyed on...so sounds like mom has been busy since she left us...and rejoicing with her siblings...love to all...I will let you know of arrangements as soon as I know.."

Aunt Trish and Agnes

Memaw and unidentified baby

When Memaw passed, she lay in bed and held conversation with Papaw, who was long deceased.
W

Folk Life

I spent the entire day at the Smithsonian Folk Life festival, and it was wonderful. One of the themes was Mexico, and that was fascinating. They had one section where they showed how they weaved decoravive items and hats from corn husks, and that was interesting. I later bought a beautiful sunhat They had lots of cooking demonstrations. I've watched Susan Craft cook authentic Mexican food with authentic tools so often that all I really learned is that she is a better cook! The really great part was that all the demonstrators and their families were wearing really pretty authentic costumes. The had a few dancers and LOTS of wonderful music ensembles scattered around. One ensemble featured a Mexican harp. which I'd never seen before.

This isn't a picture of the real musicians who were there. It is just to show you what a Mexican harp looks like.

One of my "David" stories is from when he and Ron and Sue and I went to Cancun together. One night at dinner, a roaming Mexican guitarist came up to our table and asked for requests. None of us knew any Mexican music, of course, so David said he was teaching a Mexican song to his kids in school. It was something like, "The Fat Kitty Cat Wears a Hat". The Musicians did not know it, and quickly moved on,

Art

As I said, Folk Life wasn't happening yesterday. I went to the Hirshorn instead. These are some of the works I saw. It was all very modern, and, sadly, I don't understand it. Beautiful weather, though.

Alexander Caldfer - Critter with Mobile Top

Yves KLEIN - With the Void, New Power