Elisa and Valley took the bus this morning, so we didn't walk as far as usual. It was cold, but not raining while we stood there. Ray and I spent a little time on the Chicken Fence before he went to work. I did some school work and had leftover vichysoisse for lunch, with a sandwich. I went back outside and did some more stapling during the warmest sunniest part of the day, when it was about 60.

When Ray got home, I rushed around trying to get some early dinner together. I had thawed a couple drumsticks and stuck them in the oven with some seasoning, started some rice and cooked a bok choy from the garden. It was good, but, of course, I only ate a little of it because we had to get to class by 4:55, which we pretty much did. We were talking about death and dying, which is kind of an area of expertise for me. I had brought all my handouts, but didn't have a chance to say anything or share them. We also watched an interesting video called the Personals, a documentary of some older people doing theater in NYC.

Ray picked up Elisa and took her to Taco Stand. They lelft me the car and took a campus bus to the Performing Arts Center. We had tickets to Mixt, a young trio--violin, piano, clarinet. I was embarrassed to always be leaving class early, so they went without me. I drove over and sat in the lobby during the first half, doing some reading with faint music in the background. At intermission, we were going to switch, but they let Ray in--one of the ushers was a retired Geology professor. The place wasn't half full, so a victimless crime. The music was very good. I am not that great an audience for it--always thinking of other things I should be doing and wondering how much longer until we can leave.

To bed, and a good night's sleep.