"You and I are past our dancing days." (Romeo and Juliet)

     RH+ needs to have some "noise" while she's in the kitchen alone.  There's a passthrough to the dining room where we could fit a 19" TV.

We went to Walmart and bought a really nice TV with great color for $128 and brought it home anxious to see how it works for her.  We took the thing out of its box and the stand had to be attached to the bottom of the TV.  The thing must have been made in China or India or Pakistan--or even in Afghanistan by the Talaban because we spent about a half hour trying to attach the stand to the monitor with two tiny screws.  We found it impossible to accomplish the task so we returned it to Walmart and now RH+ has no noise in the kitchen to keep her company.  Next stop--Best Buy.  Stay tuned.   

 

     The good news is that I no longer have to bout with COPT.  Consequently I have no illnesses to speak of and can live as a normal person does.  Except for the fact that I still need a walker.  Oh well, I suppose it comes with the territory. However, I get compliments from people who can't believe I'm 89.  I can't believe it either.  I look in the mirror every morning and say to myself "Are you still here?"

 

     I am vain sufficiently to say I get quite a few compliments from members who were at the Boomers' Club Oscar Night in our ballroom where I was asked to sing a few bars of "Rich Man" from "Fiddler on the Roof. And so I did, and so I got a Standing O from the 300 people who were there.  And a lady in our elevator recognized me today and said I was "fabulous"!  I know. I know. I also received a birthday card from a young lady who was in my class at Sea Cliff H.S. in 1954.  She wrote a note inside saying that I changed her life. She closed with the words, "I love you".  She must be in her 60s by now.  Did you really expect me to keep all this to myself? Ah, well, since no one is reading this, what does it matter?