July 24, 2015

Michael and Amanda arrived last evening, Amanda heavily and gracefully pregnant. They seem happy to be back “home,” and reasonably happy with their new lives in Idaho. I tried to catch them up on local gossip, but am horrible at that, hearing little and retaining little of what I hear. We bellowed at each other through a late supper at Asheville Pizza & Brewing, which was loud and happy and loud and congenial and loud. I spent most of yesterday cooking for them– let me say now that eggplant Parmesan is incredibly messy and labor-intensive–to find that part of their plan is a reminiscent visit to all their favorite restaurants. So, no home meals. OK, we have a potluck Sunday. Here’s hoping people come hungry. They seem exactly as they were when they left, which is well. They gratifyingly exhibited shock at the numeral of my upcoming birthday. What sheer success their partnership is! Glad to have been there at the beginning.
  
Up early to meet Bill P at the Racquet Club for a work out. I attach myself to him for his normal straight guy bloke-iness, something rare and needful in my life. All the men's toilets were clogged at the gym, looking as if a herd of dinosaurs had arrived there expressly to take gargantuan dumps.