I learned this afternoon that my parents read my blog. I was momentarily concerned that I might have said something at some time or other which might distress
me them. But they especially liked the story about The Funeral. I must have embarrassed them enough in my youth, so they can now laugh with (or, more likely, at) me.
A book recommended by a colleague is not at all what I expected, resulting in loud, uncontrollable laughter in a plane full of people, all of whom were staring at me. And when the heroine’s grandmother accidentally fired the .38 Special during dinner and into the roasted chicken, I absolutely lost it. Thanks Dian!
My cabbie was from Eritrea, and he was surprised and excited that I know where that is. He kept insisting that I should move to California, wanted to know if I have family here, and “casually” asked if I am married. He was undeterred when I mentioned my husband. Now those are some seriously impressive geography skills.