Is it still Saturday? Writer's Group here - Running with Cousin Lloyd

Recent photo of Cousin Lloyd as I like to call him.

Every day he "trots" for 40 minutes to help alleviate his Parkinson's disease.

Anyone wanna trot with me, he asked.

Well, I sure didn't feel like it as we were all nice n cozy at Mom's, but I wanted to accompany him and besides I had just eaten goodies from Ben and Irv's plus a rhubarb cranberry pie Lynn brought over.

Am waiting for my timer to ding as Scott is making us a pizza w an artichoke crust.

Excellent pizza. Scott used Boar's Head's Sheep topping for something different.

Good choice!

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Judy wrote two beautiful poems about her mom Blanche, her soft skin, and how they often cuddled together in bed. Their wonderful relationship only happened in recent years after her mom sold her car and was no longer independent.

Rem wrote one of his pun-filled "radio programs" aka Randy Package which we loved.

I wrote THE BROWN ROOF which I'll submit after making corrections.


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Aunt Mary came to visit Mom.

Do I have an old picture of her?

See above. This is the whole Begis clan. Mary is the blonde in the middle of the last row.

She told us stories about dating after Donny died. What a hilarious sit-com it would make.

While eating the pizza we watched The Robert Costa Show on WPVT. Is that right? It's called Washington Week in Review. Bob Costa is only 34 years old.




While Lloyd and I were trotting I told him I watched Les Miserables on PBS. He hadn't realized it was made into a musical.

We also discussed his psychotherapy practice. At age 90, he's wondering when he should quit.

When/if he retires he wants to write about enlightenment.

And Mary moved to Asheville N C where she takes classes at the University of NC at Chapel Hill on many subjects, literature, philosophy, great writers like Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Ruth Z Deming.

When I worked as a therapist at Bristol Bensalem I wrote prolific poetry, like Linda Barrett does today. Montgomery County partially paid for a poetry book we wrote.

In there was a poem featuring Asheville, NC! It was about an African-American client of mine who was practically illiterate and was staying in a shelter, waiting for his granddaughter to pick him up.

Okay, that's it. Going back to Scott's. We'll watch some news and fall asleep together. Should I bring over my pretzels?