Lest we forget...
8:34 p.m.
I started complaining of a headache and the woman next to me, the one who scoops on every single goddamned note, gave me a couple of extra-strength painkillers, which seemed to do the trick. But between her scooping and the woman on the other side singing tons of wrong notes, it’s quite understandable where it was coming from.
When I left the group to go to the fountain to take the pills, I noticed how thin and ineffectual the sopranos sound when I’m not singing. This really isn’t a good thing, no matter how flattering I may find it.
As I was leaving the campus, I met the young man who accompanied us to the party on Saturday night and had left his bicycle at our place, so he started walking home with me, ostensibly to retrieve his bike but actually to mooch a meal, when Hubby came by in the car and picked us both up. I don’t really mind Little Princess’ friends eating with us; it sort of fills the place at the table where Buddy Boy would normally be.
Speaking of Buddy Boy, he is presenting an address at the Aviation Museum in our nation’s capital the Saturday after next on his great-great-uncle, the WWI flying ace by virtue of whom he was eligible to apply for the Great War project he was in the summer before last. He emailed me his speech last night to read over and edit if necessary. He spoke about the bonding process that occurs between soldiers, and how he experienced it with the men in his “unit” even though it was only for a couple of weeks. He said he would have done anything for those guys. He used this as an explanation for why his great-great-uncle sent his two comrades back to base and flew directly at the enemy in an attempt to buy them time to get away safely, thus assuring his own demise. I was really very moved by it.
With that in mind, I bought a poppy and put it on my jacket today.
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