"You could make a million dollars selling this"

    said April, one of the very attractive young women at Drinking Liberally, about my cocoa portable baklava. Her friend Erin, the one who looks like Audrey Hepburn, agreed. They wanted me to set up at the farmers' market Saturday and said they'd help. More fool I that I didn't go along with the suggestion; I almost but didn't quite say that I still need to focus on my dad, now. Supremely good for morale, though.
    At the nursing home, we watch a lot of Turner Classic Movies. Between Howard Keel musicals yesterday, they showed a bizarre short about Natchez. There was a bit with an old black lady smoking a pipe, with the narrator saying something like "Old Grandma Nelly says, no matter what anybody might say, nobody was ever happier than the colored people in the South before the War." I'm pretty sure they meant the one Between the States. Earlier, there had been a bit about the colored people being the singingest, dancingest folks. It was repugnant beyond belief. I can only assume that no one at TCM listened to the narration before putting it on the air. Served as a freaky introduction to "Show Boat," too.
    Dad is doing well. Monday he got another hour and a half of physical therapy. I didn't actually hear about yesterday's work, but he looks well and seems more lively all the time.
    In my life, time has ground to a stop again. I no longer believe that this means that some young lady is going to fall on me from the trees, since clearly no one from that gender has any interest. But so long as it doesn't mean that any further disasters are coming, I'm good with it.