Monday's in Postcards 4

1967 Datsun SPL311, 1600.</font>

There we were, right in the middle of Captain Poolies very successful muscle Car show reception, and I wander away. You could find me at the far side of the museum longing for the little Datsun sports car. I drove one of those for 12 years, and it was my baby. As it got older, I got poorer and couldn’t do proper repairs on it. I truly miss it still.

As I do research on our latest trip, I begin making piles. I found soft squishy, 3oz bottles that will do well for shampoo. G bought one, and you can smell the perfume through the plastic. I have a paper food tracker from WW, and I found a source for black large size tights. No one but Macy’s has them. If nothing else, we got a good walk on Oscar afternoon searching for the tights.

I should feel guilty. I don’t. We stayed home last night to watch the glitz and glam of the public Hollywood crowd. It was fun for a brief while. All those splendid dresses and acres of penguins. I don’t like slapstick, so Ellen didn’t wear at all well on me. The Great Geezer had the head nods. And, of course, I cheered for all the ones who lost. I’m sorry about that.

Bobbie announced she was heading to Paris. She’ll be back the day we leave. We will meet at the Long Beach art museum April 17th for lunch. Sometimes friendships are like that.

Time to make up menu’s and go grocery shopping. Baked potatoe and salad, dinner out, baked squash dinner out, dinner out, ad infinitum.