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[Comments] (3) Poor Little Birdie: I worked most of the day in the yard--three hours in the morning and an hour this evening. While I was planting the columbines I found a d-e-a-d-b-i-r-d under one of the redwood trees. I hurried and shoveled him into the compost bin to be taken away to the green waste dump on Monday. He didn't look like he'd been caught by a cat, but I didn't want to leave his corpse anywhere to be found by a cat and brought in as a lovely present. He was a Brewer's blackbird.

The ladies from our former Primary presidency took me to lunch for my birthday. At Country Rose Tea Room, the usual. When I got there, who should be sitting at lunch with his wife and sister-in-law but Chuck Fosdick, who used to teach with me at Chipman Junior High. We had old home week catching each other up about where all the people are now. Chuck is at Compton now and he loves it there. By the way, Marianne, he says you are one of his favorite people.

At Chipman, everyone sat and ate lunch in the faculty dining room in a big happy crowd. (Because administrators usually didn't eat with us.) Except on Wednesdays. On Wednesdays they had a prayer/Bible study elsewhere. They never invited me to it. Or Neil. Or Marianne. Or Art. So every Wednesday we had lunch group with three Mormons and an atheist. It was kind of interesting because even the teacher who was Greek Orthodox went to prayer group with the Christians, but not me. I suppose I could snit about it, but in spite of that, all the teachers there were wonderful people. There's going to be nobody left there after this year. Times change, people move on.


© 2001-2006 Frances Whitney.