I don’t know why I was so nervous: I mean, I know a bunch of these people… and this dinner takes place every year.
It was very nice. After picking me up, Chris swung by my former supervisor (this brought back memories of happier years). Dennis asked about Mom, and how I like living on my own, and we talked for a little.
At the Country Club, it was packed (it sounded like a high school cafeteria or something). After a while, one of the Lions got up and said the blessing—after which the salads were put on the table. I’m picky about salad, so I declined mine. I did, however, accept a roll and butter—followed by ham with pineapple glaze, buttered carrots and mashed potatoes with gravy. For dessert, there was chocolate cake (such a rich chocolate cake I’ve rarely tasted).
My friend Eric, from Colorado, and his mother were there; he also sent my mother greetings for me to pass along.
There was music in the background at one point—then a Catholic choir that sings every year came to sing songs (and, in the background, Eddie—one can tell he really enjoys singing, though his voice isn’t anything spectacular or anything. He also, every year, sings two solos at the end: “White Christmas” and “Silver Bells.”)
At the end of the dinner, everyone got a pointsettia (I told Mom last night that she’s getting mine, as I have no room for it. Besides, I’ve given her the plant every year but one, when it went to Grandma.) Oh, by the way, it’s pink.
(1) Young I may be, but even young people are entitled to their opinions.
(2)Attempting to silence me doesn't hurt me, but the silencer.
(3) I must remain true to myself.