The time has flown by. Before I tell you about it, though, I need to do a bit of a rewind.
Before I left Palm Springs on February 15, I went to a memorial for our friend Floyd. Friend might be putting too fine a point on it - he was certainly part of our extended circle, but I didn't know him very well. Odd, though, it doesn't matter how well you know someone, everyone knows a different side of that person, and they are all reflected at these memorials.
.....here's Alkie, our talented singer..... (there wasn't a dry eye in the house)
This was all arranged by friend Pete, and, in spite of the casual dress, was amazingly lovely. Floyd was actually five days younger than I am, but the smoking (which he did till the day of his death) and the cancer were not kind to him. Lovely things were said (does everyone else wonder what will be said about them when the time comes?), touching and funny both, and one of our talented cohort sang an amazingly beautiful version of Amazing Grace.
The first of many, I am afraid, but I am glad to have gone.
I got into Vancouver late on Sunday, the 15th, and was actually in the office early on Monday. I wanted to start work anyway, but this was a command performance - the retirement party of good friend Bill. We have worked together - I don't know exactly how long, I don't think we ever worked it out, but certainly the better part of a decade or more.
.....here's the happy retiree himself, looking suitably stunned.....
...and here is Bea, our resident historian, telling tales.....
Funny thing about retirement. No matter how much you want to retire, no matter how much money you have, it seems to cause great consternation for everyone. It must be right up there with marriage and moving on the stress meter. And it is a huge change, being adrift from a paycheck, feeling intimations of your own mortality, and, in our case, feeling that you will miss your colleagues. Bill and I have a particular rapport - in these days of political correctness and sexual harassment accusations, we could say anything to one another. And did. I will, of course, still see him for coffees and lunches, but I will miss our day to day! God speed, Bill!
Now we are back to Tuesday, the 17th, and the surgery. It all went well. Colleague and friend Deidre drove me to the hospital, where I spent more time talking to people, filling out forms and waiting than I did being operated on. The plastic surgeon - well, what can I say, she is one of those women who I develop crushes on - dynamic and smart and funny and, apparently, talented. She seems to have done a good job! When she was done, I felt (as she had warned) like someone had beaten me up, but the hump was gone, I walked out on my own steam, and didn't even fill the prescription for pain killer until 5 days later, when I got tired of feeling like someone beat me up and did something about it.
On the day of the operation, though, Deidre just picked me up and we both went back to the office (I have to say, the surgeon thought I was out of my mind. Her only comment was "Don't you ever watch television?") Deidre, Susan and I did go out to Yokahama that night to celebrate!
And then, back to the grind of work and friends. Below, our regular Monday Pho lunch, this time held on Thursday in light of the party for Bill on Monday.
Friend Joyce and I went for a walk in Steveston on Saturday - you can see the glorious weather for yourselves...
Lucky for you guys, the one thing I forgot to pack was the charger for my camera, so that is the last of the pictures for now. The two coffees (Bill and Eric), one lunch (Randy), two dinners (Lois and Heather and Jack), two bridge playing opportunities (one day at the bridge club and one night at John's with the boys), two nurse Nora visits to Tom (who has just heart surgery), two other walks in the sunshine (alone, actually) and two theater evenings (with the otherTom) went undocumented. And yes, I did manage to get my work done. Some pictures might be forthcoming later - lots of telephones were brandished when I told people my tale of woe vis a vis my camera, but I will believe it when I see it.
A word about the theater. Last Saturday, Tom and I went to a small theater in Langara College called Studio 58, and saw, of all things, Oklahoma. It has probably been 40 years since I saw it last, but, amazingly, I still knew all the words (I'm Just A Girl Who Can't Say No" used to be my party piece!). They did a wonderful job of it, singing choreography, staging, everything was great, and in a theater that small, you were right in the middle of the action. Great audience too. Altogether a wonderful theater evening! Tom and I have been going to the theater since law school - a few minutes ago!!! - and I hope we keep doing it for many years to come.
And tonight, we ("we"" being Tom and myself) went to the Metro Theater, a funky old (but largish) theater, and saw an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, directed by my friend Joan, who I know from working props at the United Players. Also excellent (thank God, imagine having to explain to Joan that I didn't like the play on which she had expended so much effort!) The actors were young and enthusiastic, and well, as we all know, it is a feel-good story. I'm not that big a fan (gasp!) of Austen, but it was another great night at the theater.
Well, I've almost wasted enough time (it is 1:30 A.M., and the taxi coming to take me to the airport is coming at 4!). I'll just tell you about my most recent book. Someone recommended Alan Furst, and I just read Dark Star. I guess you would call it an espionage thriller, a type of book I don't normally read, but the action takes place in Europe before WW II, the "hero" (or antihero, rather) is a Polish/Russian Jew, and his descriptions - well, I recognize it all. It is my parents' Europe, part of my DNA. I can't unreservedly recommend it - it is very dark - but I am happy to have read it. Just one brief example. He is on his way to Germany, and is among a group of people singing Deutschland Uber Alles. He describes the songs and singers, and goes on to say: "It was the instinctive and passionate unity of the singers that frightened him; the sheer depth of it was overwhelming. You couldn't, he thought, find three Jews in the world who would agree on what it meant to be Jewish, yet there were apparently fifty million of these people who knew exactly what it meant to be German, though many of those on deck had never set foot in Germany...."
Well, you see what I mean.
I'm on to reading The Bostonians, by Henry James, hopefully, not quite so dark. Between that and the pile of Economists John saved up for me, I should keep out of mischief!
Well, time to pack up and get the show on the road. I will write again - sooner, I hope - from Palm Springs!
Before I left Palm Springs on February 15, I went to a memorial for our friend Floyd. Friend might be putting too fine a point on it - he was certainly part of our extended circle, but I didn't know him very well. Odd, though, it doesn't matter how well you know someone, everyone knows a different side of that person, and they are all reflected at these memorials.
.....here's Alkie, our talented singer..... (there wasn't a dry eye in the house)
This was all arranged by friend Pete, and, in spite of the casual dress, was amazingly lovely. Floyd was actually five days younger than I am, but the smoking (which he did till the day of his death) and the cancer were not kind to him. Lovely things were said (does everyone else wonder what will be said about them when the time comes?), touching and funny both, and one of our talented cohort sang an amazingly beautiful version of Amazing Grace.
The first of many, I am afraid, but I am glad to have gone.
I got into Vancouver late on Sunday, the 15th, and was actually in the office early on Monday. I wanted to start work anyway, but this was a command performance - the retirement party of good friend Bill. We have worked together - I don't know exactly how long, I don't think we ever worked it out, but certainly the better part of a decade or more.
.....here's the happy retiree himself, looking suitably stunned.....
...and here is Bea, our resident historian, telling tales.....
Funny thing about retirement. No matter how much you want to retire, no matter how much money you have, it seems to cause great consternation for everyone. It must be right up there with marriage and moving on the stress meter. And it is a huge change, being adrift from a paycheck, feeling intimations of your own mortality, and, in our case, feeling that you will miss your colleagues. Bill and I have a particular rapport - in these days of political correctness and sexual harassment accusations, we could say anything to one another. And did. I will, of course, still see him for coffees and lunches, but I will miss our day to day! God speed, Bill!
Now we are back to Tuesday, the 17th, and the surgery. It all went well. Colleague and friend Deidre drove me to the hospital, where I spent more time talking to people, filling out forms and waiting than I did being operated on. The plastic surgeon - well, what can I say, she is one of those women who I develop crushes on - dynamic and smart and funny and, apparently, talented. She seems to have done a good job! When she was done, I felt (as she had warned) like someone had beaten me up, but the hump was gone, I walked out on my own steam, and didn't even fill the prescription for pain killer until 5 days later, when I got tired of feeling like someone beat me up and did something about it.
On the day of the operation, though, Deidre just picked me up and we both went back to the office (I have to say, the surgeon thought I was out of my mind. Her only comment was "Don't you ever watch television?") Deidre, Susan and I did go out to Yokahama that night to celebrate!
And then, back to the grind of work and friends. Below, our regular Monday Pho lunch, this time held on Thursday in light of the party for Bill on Monday.
Friend Joyce and I went for a walk in Steveston on Saturday - you can see the glorious weather for yourselves...
Lucky for you guys, the one thing I forgot to pack was the charger for my camera, so that is the last of the pictures for now. The two coffees (Bill and Eric), one lunch (Randy), two dinners (Lois and Heather and Jack), two bridge playing opportunities (one day at the bridge club and one night at John's with the boys), two nurse Nora visits to Tom (who has just heart surgery), two other walks in the sunshine (alone, actually) and two theater evenings (with the otherTom) went undocumented. And yes, I did manage to get my work done. Some pictures might be forthcoming later - lots of telephones were brandished when I told people my tale of woe vis a vis my camera, but I will believe it when I see it.
A word about the theater. Last Saturday, Tom and I went to a small theater in Langara College called Studio 58, and saw, of all things, Oklahoma. It has probably been 40 years since I saw it last, but, amazingly, I still knew all the words (I'm Just A Girl Who Can't Say No" used to be my party piece!). They did a wonderful job of it, singing choreography, staging, everything was great, and in a theater that small, you were right in the middle of the action. Great audience too. Altogether a wonderful theater evening! Tom and I have been going to the theater since law school - a few minutes ago!!! - and I hope we keep doing it for many years to come.
And tonight, we ("we"" being Tom and myself) went to the Metro Theater, a funky old (but largish) theater, and saw an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, directed by my friend Joan, who I know from working props at the United Players. Also excellent (thank God, imagine having to explain to Joan that I didn't like the play on which she had expended so much effort!) The actors were young and enthusiastic, and well, as we all know, it is a feel-good story. I'm not that big a fan (gasp!) of Austen, but it was another great night at the theater.
Well, I've almost wasted enough time (it is 1:30 A.M., and the taxi coming to take me to the airport is coming at 4!). I'll just tell you about my most recent book. Someone recommended Alan Furst, and I just read Dark Star. I guess you would call it an espionage thriller, a type of book I don't normally read, but the action takes place in Europe before WW II, the "hero" (or antihero, rather) is a Polish/Russian Jew, and his descriptions - well, I recognize it all. It is my parents' Europe, part of my DNA. I can't unreservedly recommend it - it is very dark - but I am happy to have read it. Just one brief example. He is on his way to Germany, and is among a group of people singing Deutschland Uber Alles. He describes the songs and singers, and goes on to say: "It was the instinctive and passionate unity of the singers that frightened him; the sheer depth of it was overwhelming. You couldn't, he thought, find three Jews in the world who would agree on what it meant to be Jewish, yet there were apparently fifty million of these people who knew exactly what it meant to be German, though many of those on deck had never set foot in Germany...."
Well, you see what I mean.
I'm on to reading The Bostonians, by Henry James, hopefully, not quite so dark. Between that and the pile of Economists John saved up for me, I should keep out of mischief!
Well, time to pack up and get the show on the road. I will write again - sooner, I hope - from Palm Springs!
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