TBW Daily Diary

I neglected to thank the three people who came to the hospital on Friday to keep Bob company during my procedure. Unfortunately none was directed to our location, so their visits were for naught. However, one was directed to the eighth floor where I was thought to be. Too bad I wasn't; I could have been rich. The eighth floor is the maternity ward . . . Bob and I finally visited the Midtown bookstore; I was disappointed. The clerk explained to me that this was not a venue for browsing or the casual reader; it was a “scholarly” place and I almost gave her a heart attack when I asked if she had any mysteries tucked away. There were NO sale books inside, I was told, but I did find a Kenneth Roberts and a Mary Stewart on the $1 carts outside. I probably read both fifty years ago, but they should be good for another go-round . . . Neighbors Megan and Chris tried Dodge City Restaurant for lunch and gave it a tentative thumbs up; neighbor Betty, her daughter and sister went for dinner and there was no mistaking their thumbs down . . . That tiny hole they punched in my back at the hospital on Friday is beginning to itch like crazy; hope that means it is mending itself . . .