Saturday, May 18, 2024

      I spill coffee on myself this morning.  Now my pants are dry, smelling like coffee.  So many worse smells in my life.   At the bank the teller is alert and helpful.  Maybe the feint hint of coffee helps. Another foggy day.

     I don’t have allergies I tell myself.  And yet, I carry around a piece of white tissue.  Just old age, not allergies. As a young woman I wondered why old women had tissues stuffed into their pockets and up their shirt sleeves. Now I know, our noses drip.

     On Friday, I shop at the gourmet grocery store for soups, salads, and chocolate cake. Of course, I buy more then I plan and the bag is heavy and difficult to manage with my cane. Slowly I come home and place the bag on the kitchen counter. I rest in the recliner for half an hour before I put the food away.

     THE DEATH OF THE RED HEROINE is a long book.  It gets better with each page. I am learning so much about China in the 1990’s from this detective novel. My daughter comes by after work and we eat dinner and watch the first episode of season three of BRIDGERTON.  Nope, found it boring, boring, boring.