Karen, let’s do something on your birthday. It’s a Sunday. Something simple like go out for lunch?
There will be a memoriam for Grandma in Monday’s paper. It’s been five years already.
Emil’s here and he’d like to go to Neil’s, and so would I, but I feel lazy. Also have dishes to do and am too lazy to get started. I’m blaming this on the grey/white of the day, but really it’s lovely outside and I just need to get moving.
Thought of phoning Cameron this morning but it was while I was doing something else so of course it didn’t happen.
Joan I was surprised you hadn’t heard me tell about Mom getting Karen and me up to see the Beatles on Ed Sullivan. I always think I’ve told everyone everything, in a way.
So here’s one I assume you’ve heard. But maybe you haven’t. Mom told me, and I remember it a little, or think I do.
When I was about three, she and I were somewhere like a bus station and saw a woman dressed in a colourful sari, and I exclaimed, “An angel!”
And when at the same place I saw a nun in her long black habit, I said “A witch!”
three sisters!
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