Let's see if I can find them.
BTW, I lost half of my blog post already.
Grace and Dan helped me download the photos from today's party.
Willow Run Apartments in Willow Grove are lovely. Here's the huge backyard which runs down to the creek. Standing there, we saw a deer with antlers!
Donna stands next to former neighbor, Kathy, who brought a spectacular sour cream pound cake.
David Hunter of Martha and David. Martha was hemming a pair of Carly's pants. 
The aloe vera is stretching out its healing tentacles - that's 'tentacles,' mind you - making us all feel wonderful that we could gather together at Donna and Denny's.
I wore my yellow honeybee earrings for Beatriz, a retired biologist.
Donna looked beautiful!!! Her nail polish was a shiny gray. Note the brocade pattern on her sofa. My late Aunt Ethel from Cleveland had a sofa with the same pattern.
Donna said she's already wrin a poem for next week's Writers' Group.
Every room was gorgeous and immaculate. Denny Morrow and Donna moved in about three months ago. I asked what his last name was bc there was Irish imagery in the house.
Denny would go outside and smoke his pipe. He has one daughter, 37, who wasn't able to attend.Denny is originally from Phoenixville PA. As a child he bounced around from one relative to another bc his parents were divorced. When I asked him What's the happiest time of your life, he said, When I turned 21.
He really enjoyed himself then. Went to bars to have fun and rode a motorcycle until a year ago. His car now is a low-mileage Mustang, forget the year.
Carly had a devil of a time with her deviled eggs, so she did a clever thing.
She made biscuits and stuffed the messy deviled eggs inside.
Like an Egg McMuffin, said someone.
Donna stands next to her brother Bob, her only sibling. Bob works PT at Wendy's. You're quite the dresser, I said to slim Bob, who was wearing a really nice shirt.
Carly stands next to hubby Charlie. They USED to live in these same apartments, which is how Donna found out about them. The place is very well-maintained.
And now, if you'll excuse me, am gonna go on my front porch and catch some rain on my hair.
From Carly: Reading your blog and the fly that you found on your window sill "dead". Your were thinking about calling him Orville. My breath skipped a beat because my Dad's name is Orville. Haven't heard that name in a long, long time. I know that you didn't want to call his Orville because of my Dad, but because of Mr. Wright. When I took a hot air ride, many years ago, I was introduced to my co-rider and he told us that he indeed was a pilot. I believe he was somewhere in his 80's at the time and had a licence signed by Orville Wright himself.
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