....and more family.

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Breakfast with Lenora and Mohave.

Yesterday and Today He went off to work with a certain jaunty attitude, and I did all those mundane things that make a house run. Picked up MY piles. Sorted out MY messes, and made HIS menus. Said with a smile. They laid off two more folks and dumpt it on G. Today went to the bone doc who was pleased after I apologized for my previous attitude. The less I am active the longer it will last. four months till the next shot minimum.

We waited in the wonderful Benson lobby and people watched. Daughter Lenora and granddaughter Mohave were right on time, tolerated me with smiles, and were a delight to see. Newly employed husband, Bill, doesn’t like families and was still in bed.

Sharing family with family.

The hotel dining room was not open yet, so the concierge sent us a block away to the “Original.” They gave us a good breakfast at a good price. I had pancakes with way too much butter and brown sugar…just the way I like it. I was overjoyed to see them not realizing how sad I was that they moved so far away. Parting was teary on my side, and I took ‘last photographs’ till they were far, far up toward Powell’s.

Walking away to Powell’s, and the Alzheimer’s Parade.




Top four: Main stairs. Bottom left: Back stairs, Bottom Right: Lobby ceiling.

For a short while we wandered around the hotel. Shots of the local Alzheimer’s parade from our room windows, details of the lobby and mezzanine bronze railings. Close-up shots as much stuff as we could all done before DA and Ken arrived. And they arrived with hugs and smiles and many so glad to see you’s. They are such close friends and are so of like minds that this is a friendship I’ve nurtured since the fifties.



We made reservations in the downstairs dining room before breakfast, and now we were able to go right downstairs to one of those most magnificent buffets that feed you everything but the kitchen sink.

Ah, the not joy of eating too much.

By the time we had talked till almost three PM, we were beginning to feel as if we had eaten way too much. By the time they left and we had taxied to the station and settled into Portland’s first class lounge, I was ill as was G. We hadn’t brought any Dramamine to calm our stomachs down. I discovered this when we moved on board our sleeping car. Not good, but by dinner we were able to take a few mouthfuls of something, chicken in my case, of a box lunch brought by our car attendant, Darrell. He was a winner.