I finished up the remainder of my holiday cards—the ones containing both a letter and my photo card, and wrote one extra letter to enclose in my Aunt Annette's envelope.
I made an early afternoon run to Trader Joe's to pick up a little something to take to my friend Steve's holiday party tonight to go along with the bottle of wine that Robert was bringing. That place is just fun to me. Maybe it's the newness of it. Maybe it's the variety of things that I see there but nowhere else. Maybe it's that it's got a nice variety of things, but the store isn't at all large.
I ended up with a box of Candy Cane Joe-Joe's, well three of them actually, as I bought one to put in a little gift basket for my parents, and I had to have a box myself to try them before giving them to others as a gift. I mean that's just good manners. That's my story and it's sticking to me.
Pretty darn good!
A customer on her way out leaned over to my cashier as she was ringing up my order and said to her, "Hey. Happy Holidays! We missed you in church today."
"Yes, well as you can see, I had to work." the cashier replied and then asked, "Did you serve communion today?"
"Yes, I did," the customer responded.
"Well, I hate that I missed that, and that I missed Bill's singing. I tried to hear him last week, but the night I went, he was sick and didn't sing. Okay, Happy Holidays to you, too."
The customer disappeared and the cashier said to me in a loud whisper, "What are you gonna do? I couldn't make it to church today. I gotta earn a living, you know."
I felt like saying, "Lady, I'm the last person on God's green earth that you need to apologize to about missing church." Bless her heart.
On the way home, I drove by the Method Station Post Office, which is not on Method Road, but around the corner on Beryl Road... but I digress... and slipped my stack of holiday cards into one of the roadside mailboxes there—which in order to reach you have to pull up to by driving on the wrong side of the road. But I digress even futher...
Robert arrived at around 4:00 and we played some online Scrabble, each taking a turn on my laptop for our respective moves. In between moves, I worked on my Saturday's blog entry, and Robert did an Indy crossword puzzle. He also had a load of laundry going on in the background.
We left at about 6:45 for Steve's party, driving separately, and with a SECU ATM drive-by for me on the way.
As usual, everything was just so for Steve's party—the house beautifully decorated, the food generous and delicious, and the company warm.
I used his restroom at one point, and while I was in there, I reached up into the little wooden medicine cabinet knickknack display case above the toilet and snatched one of the square bars of decorative monogrammed soap—which had the letter "M" on it for Moore—and put it in my pocket.
Back out and milling about, I tried my joke out on a couple of different people, eventually including the host himself. I would say, "I love having friends whose last names start with the same letter as mine," hoping for a "Why's that?" response, at which time I pulled the bar of soap out of my pocket and said, "Because you can steal their monogrammed stuff and use it yourself."
Robert and I left at the same time, around 10:00, and as he turned onto I-40 West to head back to Durham, I continued straight (gayly forward, actually, as that's just what we do) into downtown, where I stopped at Flex and where Joe joined me about 15 minutes later after bidding his adieus at the party.
It was surprisingly crowded (well, not packed, but many more people than there have been on Sunday nights in the last couple of months) for karaoke, and we enjoyed a couple of drinks while talking mostly with Al.
We left just before midnight.