ANY WEDNESDAY

Bizarre moment: I'm at the laptop here in a corner of the kitchen last night going mad trying to sort 100+ images from jpg into png files and enhance and crop and retouch and finally into the file marked "TIM" (Peg's website designer and my cousin), Odd and his walker have since clumped off to bed after The Last Nebulizer Treatment (4 per day) but Peg's still at the butcher block, glued to "Witness for the Prosecution" on the box. I can't see it, but I can hear it. Had I been in Middlefield the next door town I could still hear it, but we know all this. The point is, I hear Charles Laughton speaking and am reminded of an anecdote about him Peg related to me for her website Timeline. I then hear Marlene Dietrich. She too, features in an anecdote of Peg's. As does Tyrone Power, the other voice. I stop what I'm doing and look over at Peg, suddenly realizing that she is watching a movie in which she knows (knew) all three stars personally, in fact not only knew them but had a 12 year affair with Power. They're all dead now but she's not, she's alive, watching them, and I wonder what is going through her mind as she does this. 
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Reading matter in bed: 19 of Peg's letters to her mother in 1940 telling about her life at WTBO in Cumberland MD. This is Book #4. Nine notebooks in all, anywhere from 40 - 130 single spaced typed letters in each. They start in 1938 and go to 1949, by which time she was married and in New York and a radio and soon to be TV star. Beats reading about Mengele's assistant at Auschwitz.
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STAFF ON CALL:

Outside Bob: primed office-formerly-diningroom walls. Looks good. Downloaded Malware to fix over 3,000 threats on PC, which I don't use, except to play Spider Solitaire, but Bonnie does, for less important stuff like banking.

Dominick: brought camera and photographed Royal Copenhagen blue Xmas plates for eBay. Kept Peg entertained.
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Awakened by loud cries and thumps. Raced to stairs and called down. "Everything's fine," says Peg, "it's just your father having a temper tantrum." It was about orange juice. I know the argument, we hear it about once every few days. She accuses him of deliberately drinking too much orange juice so he gets diarrhea and then making a mess, that he never thinks of anyone but himself. She doesn't get that he has no control over this. "Shit! Shit!" he yells. "I'm leaving this place!"

I got a call from my guy at RadioSpirits who will be marketing her CDs, now setting up phone interviews with Peg with the guy from Sirius radio, who are going to be putting her comedies back on the air. Skype interviews being set up for the following week as well. I tell Peg all this, thinking she'll be excited by all the attention. "If we give Dominick that narrow bed from the exercise room for his apartment" she says, "what about sheets, he'll need sheets, won't he?"

Got the family silver together to go get it valued but then Hospice social worker arrived, so had to chat, so had to cancel silver, so walked the 28 acres here with soulmate and neighbour David Jenkins so he can get a bead on it all. Should I decide to sell off two parcels of land I'll need a sounding board I can trust. 

It's now all quiet suddenly in the den. Better go look. Am hoping they've toddled off to bed and are not both lying there being eaten by the collie.