It’s been a while since I’ve blogged. Libby my speech therapist is encouraging me to blog. I’m afraid this makes me reluctant to do so. (Hi Libby!) Eileen thinks this is my dead father’s influence. God knows he could be stubborn about stuff like that.

Sarah and her group are preparing to visit Elizabeth for the day. I’m relieved that I don’t have to go.

I am feeling better. I’m not doing my daily exercises but I am walking after each meal. I have not slipped into a retirement routine yet. My New York Times has started coming everyday. This is a pleasure for me. I’m looking forward to spending the day with Eileen.

I am definitely not functioning well. I accidently sent Cynthia’s gift card to her brother’s address. I am reading a bit more. I am reading the daily New York Times from start to finish. I started a new Le Guin Novel, Five Ways to Forgiveness.

I think Mark gave me a two box Library of America set by Ursula K. Le Guin. There is a wonderful quote from another of my favorite writers on it: “Genre cannot contain Ursula Le Guin: she is a genre in herself.” Zadie Smith

I’m almost done with Lipore’s The Secret History of Wonder Woman. I think I’m a bit disappointed in the extreme detail Lipore goes into about the people who invented Wonder Woman because she was more of a by product of their life styles and it takes Lipore forever to get to the actual comix.

I am reading my son-in-law Jeremy’s copy. I will see him soon, so I better finish this soon.

On the way home from the physical and speech therapist I had a phone call. It was from my dermatologist’s intern. I thought that was odd since Eileen is fielding all my medical calls. The guy was barely coherent. I had Eileen call him after we got home.

It turns out one of the spots on my neck was malignant. They will remove it next Tuesday.

Thank goodness for Eileen who seems to speak the lingo.