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Cleaning Day

For those dear readers who once lived in Orlando this one's for you!

First off, let me just say how thrilled I was to read this: Flattered All I can say is people have been so good to me in my new venture.

As anyone who has a mother-in-law knows, when she is coming to visit it is time to spruce things up a bit. Mom Peck is staying the night with us before her trip to see our newest member of the family, Annabelle, the granddaughter of Bruce's sister, Michele, who lives in St. Paul, MN. She is around two months old now, and from the pictures I've seen on facebook, a living doll. She is Mom's first great grandchild and the daughter of her youngest grandchild Mallory.

Actually, if you follow this blog, you know Friday is my cleaning day, such as it is, most weeks. I also do laundry on Fridays, a change from years of Saturday wash day. I believe I'm one of the few people who do laundry once a week. I talk to people who do it almost daily, even those with small households, which I find weird. Even when all six Pecks lived together, I did wash once a week. I have fond memories of those long ago days with 35 pairs of white Hanes on the clothes line! I also used to say we could do a Gap ad with all the Gap clothes hanging out to dry!

I did my best to stay on track, dusting, vacuuming, and cleaning the kitchen floor along with the bathrooms. Speaking of bathrooms, remember my beautiful new paint color in the hall bathroom inspired by a rug purchase? Did I already tell you that I ruined the rug in the wash???? That's not something I do regularly, thank goodness, because believe me it has not been easy to replace. I've returned three different rugs for lack of color match. I've tried Ross, Marshalls, Dillards, JC Penny, Bed, Bath & Beyond; I believe that sums it up. For the moment I've settled on one from Marshalls which looks nice but you can't open the closet door because it is too thick! Ugh!!!

On Tuesday, while biding time at the museum, I scanned a Winter Park Magazine. Much to my delight, I came across a picture of one of my all time favorite radiologists, Dr. Tom March. You may, or may not, know that I was just 17 when I entered x-ray school. Dr. March not only taught some of our classes but entertained us with both his wit and intelligence. The son of a postman from Hoboken NJ, never forgotting his past, he always behaved like a normal person. Although I didn't find his name in the phone book I did find his middle name and called that number yesterday. When Bruce and I arrived home from our little pizza date last night we were greeted with his voice on the answering machine. Turns out it was his daughter's number and she passed the message along. Today I returned his call and we chatted away as if it hadn't been more than fifteen or twenty years since we last spoke. I learned today that he is 78, the age our mother was when she died. His health remains excellent, with thrice weekly tennis games part of his repertoire. I'm very much hoping it will work out that he and his dear wife can attend the gallery opening night. Yikes, only a few weeks away!

Today would have been Mom's 84th birthday. We celebrated her last birthday with pink champagne!

Mom has arrived and it's time to cook. I'm making another version of that delicious risotto. Here's what she'll say when she eats it--"Now, that's different."
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