It was an interesting day, yesterday. I picked up my fellow inmate and we drove to the church. When we got there the church was locked. A few minutes later Jim arrived and we decided we were going to stand on the sunny side of the street while we were waiting for the woman with the key. I had tried to take my friend, let's call her Connie, by the arm, or let her hold on to my arm for I had seen her around our living area walking with a walker. every one who arrived tried to take care of her. She would accept no assistance from anyone and seemed almost put out by so many people offering her help. She is tiny and she seems old. But you should see her play bridge. She could play in our international competitions. We were three tables competing, and she and Jim certainly were the best bridge players. There were quite a few beginners in the group. But eleven very nice human beings and I enjoyed the afternoon. Jim had made a peach cobbler for the coffee hour, but it turned out to be a blackberry cobbler. On our way home I asked Connie how old she is (we old people can do that) and she said 96. I hope I am as smart as she is when I get to 96.
It would be difficult to come home to an empty house, but I am lucky enough to have a dog and a cat to welcome me home. Cap, (short for Capitola) is a 13 year old Brittany, and the cat is Edgar, found at an outdoor market two days after Sam died, 11 years ago. When Edgar met Cap his hair stood up in a scary Halloween way, so I named him for Edgar, after Edgar Allen Poe. He has been the dearest cat and Cap and I would have been sorry, had he not come into our life. When we lived on the beach, Edgar had a wonderful life, what with the dog door and the seagulls and all the other food he found. Here he goes out for a few hours and then begs to be let in again. My next door neighbor here loves Edgar and if I am out, she will let him back in the house. Edgar has had a few run-ins with wild animals here at the turf club, and has the scars to prove it.