I went through and proofread the first couple of chapters of A.W.'s new novella.
Slightly later: Mom and I went to the shoe repair man, N.C., but my purse wasn't fixed yet. We'll try again on Monday. When we got home, I chatted a little with A.W.
J. and K. are coming up from Baltimore to help celebrate Mom's birthday.
Later: K. wasn't feeling well, so she stayed home with Morris. J. showed up around 1:00 p.m. and we went to a place that has as some entrees the southeastern Pennsylvania version of Southern food. I don't think they're terribly authentic, but they're tasty. I had a BLT, which I think is a widespread American goyish food. They have cupcakes there, too.
I hadn't gotten a specific birthday card for Mom, but I wrote birthday wishes into a pretty notecard with flowers on the front and gave that to Mom this morning. I gave her a pair of earrings yesterday, blue glass beads. The other day I took pictures of a dozen pairs of costume jewelry earrings I'd made, with the loop at the top of the head pin not right, but with pretty beads.
WhiteSheepCBD texted me, but we were still having our mini-party then, so I couldn't respond much. I'll talk to her later.
J. called it a day for partying around 4:00 and headed home to K. and Morris.
I watered my poor dried-out plants. The abutilon's leaves really droop when it's thirsty. It has several orange flowers. They will probably be eaten by the deer tonight. The poet's jasmine had a flower. It smelled really good. The pineapple sage is blooming. That looks healthy.
Later than that: I chatted with A.W. for a while. I read more of the third book about Deaf history I'd read. Well, read recently. I practiced my sign language. I practiced colors and the months. At least on the DVD, the months are fingerspelled, which is convenient. I want to tell my story about going to the Tyler Arboretum and seeing the Butterfly House, and I needed the word August. Also I needed color signs. Now I need to learn the signs for tiger swallowtail, monarch, spicebush swallowtail, mourning cloak, great spangled fritillary and skipper.
I looked at a review of the first book on Deaf history I'd read (recently), and looked to see what other books the Goodreads person, T., and I had both read. We'd both read a lot of gay YA books. I told T. that if he didn't already correspond with Brent Hartinger, he should tell Brent he enjoyed the first couple of Russel Middlebrook books.