Lavin girls (clockwise from left, Gracie, Katie, and Sarah), into books
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Still a little tired on Monday, but down went the prednisone anyway, now 20 mg. We saw Dr. K. yesterday, having to wait an hour or more before she could get to us. But the news is pretty good. The big red spots on my arms are from the prednisone (so presumably they will disappear when I have tapered completely, but I didn't ask), the little ones are probably leaking platelets, which were 33 last week and are 40 this week (normal low is 150). Ugly, but not a problem. The weight gain is also prednisone, as is the apple on a stick shape: actually two apples, one on top of the other: the round face on top of the very round belly, with stick legs: call it "The Prednisone Look." Temporary, we can hope. The med is also doing a number on my eyes, blurring my vision by, evidently, enlarging the cataract in my right eye: a visit to Davis Optical is on the menu today.
After the doctor, we went to the Persian grocery store that's on the way home and picked up some dinner fixings. My cousins Gert and Sylvia were coming for a visit. Gert was on her way to Buffalo from Israel, where she had visited her son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter, all of whom are doing well. Gert is Sylvia's aunt, and my first cousin. We had fun eating, chatting, reminiscing. I consider myself a pretty cheerful person, but Gert is even more so, and she has had plenty to bring her down. But she is now the happy companion of a very good, loving, intelligent, active man.
For the others I made the turkey drumsticks and thighs baked in cranberry sauce, and for all of us I made limabean casserole, big salad with lots of veggies, and a dessert I invented that positively disgusted Sylvia and Merwin, that Gert liked, and that I loved: layered dates on pie pan, sprinkled liberally with walnuts, then covered with Droste unsweetened cocoa powder that I had mixed with water and vanilla flavoring. OK, I overdid the chocolate, which was indeed very bitter, but I like the combination of sweet dates, crunchy nuts and bitter chocolate. I should have used about 1/2 the chocolate. I ate quite a lot of it and sent the remainder to Merwin's study to be hidden and doled out occasionally. No control here.
Merwin, with the advice of all three women, put up the larger of Ilona's paintings. It looks terrific, a bright spot to enjoy as one enters the study: to the visitor's right, the flowering viburnum just past the deck, and to the left, high up, Ilona's painting, among others. Her smaller one, we all decided, should go next to the larger one: they make a good pair.
After our cousins left, Merwin and I finished the pleasant, easy evening with TV news and books—and I had a little wine, the last of that bottle. I feel as energetic this morning as I had before the trip to NYC. So I am thinking of NYC by myself: I imagine Merwin taking me to the train and me going to Penn Station to avoid stairs and then taking a cab to our studio apartment, with perhaps a visit to my shelf at the NYPL. I think by imagining it, I can make it happen. Maybe a week from now.
Love to all,
Bernice
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