Good morning, all! My good plans went totally awry this morning, because I had planned to be out of the apartment an hour ago. I overslept and that's my excuse. Once again a rod to hell is paved by my intentions. I need to stop at Toyland before dropping by rehearsal and I'll just be an hour late, that's all.
DR Ginny phoned me last night to tell me her sad news; I've been working with the phone's bell turned off so I missed her. I just spoke to her and we both got a bit weepy on the phone. DR Ginny's husband Richard and I met the first day of seventh grade in Valda Wilkerson's music class, and he remained my best friend through high school. Since our mothers dragged us around till we were sixteen, I've known Harriet Palmer for around 48 years, and I was quite fond of her. I probably haven't seen her in 25 years, but she was a formidable lady who could still instill terror and fear in me at the age of thirty-five! She was always kind to me, and often very funny, but she was a Mother with a capital M, and I believe she raised three wonderful sons. She always struck me as an independent lady who seemed to enjoy puttering around the house and lawn after her husband's death. I remember last seeing her when we gossiped over a fence around 1979. I think she was quite brave to agree to the surgery that ended her life. I always loved hearing the gossip on what Harriet was up to, and I will miss that.
DR Ginny, please give John, Richard and David my love.