It snowed overnight, but Mom and Dad still went to church.
Later: I had a low-key day. I really didn't feel like trying to drive in the remains of the snow, and it stayed very cold. Mom and I desultorily discusssed going to the library, but I'd renewed the books that were due today and didn't need to go out. Besides, it was nearly 4:00 p.m., so it would have gotten dark relatively soon.
I talked to B.G. about coming to visit A.G. and sniffing perfume samples and making costume jewelry. She said Monday afternoon was still good for them.
I tried Sud Magnolia cologne, and Dad, who was in another room, started coughing and wheezing. I wiped it off with witch hazel, then rinsed my wrists. I can understand how he could react to the Vetiver Fatal cologne, but I'm not sure what was in magnolia perfume that he'd have a reaction to.
I texted a bit with J., and caught up on some weeknight CNN that I'd taped. Some was no longer news.
I spoke to L. from Friday Night Friends about getting together with her over the weekend, weather permitting. She liked the idea of meeting up.
I talked with A. for a bit over an hour. I told him about a few days ago when B. wanted his back washed, and I started washing with plain water. B. questioned not starting with soap, so I washed his back again with soap, though he said his back was all right with just water, and it was his underarms that needed soap. "I'm not your doll," B. said. Always with the analysis. He's mentally very sharp, especially for 79. A. cracked up at that line. At least B. was cleaner. I told A. that I had stopped feeling like I was going to keel over from heat exhaustion from being in an apartment heated to 78 degrees. Also, that my coughing and wheezing had died down a lot when I wasn't in a room with a cat and lots of cat fur. Not that Toby is a bad cat, but I'm quite allergic to cats, and apparently allergy medicine can only do so much when there's that much dander around.
I read another book about the Catholic Church abuse scandals. This one said that abuse had been going on for as long as there was a church, and that sometimes attempts to stop it had been very out in the open, and sometimes abuse was kept secret. Secrecy was ascendant in the twentieth century.
I caught up on some e-mail. I'd been behind.