1 result for (book:tps7 AND heading:"delet session novemb 24 1983" AND stemmed:thanksgiv)
NOVEMBER 24, 1983 3:39 PM THURSDAY, THANKSGIVING DAY
(Thanksgiving Day. The day was very warm—50 degrees—but rainy and gloomy. Nevertheless, Paul O’Neill’s son David was raking leaves as I left the house. Jane hadn’t gone to hydro this morning. She’d had two big BM’s this morning, she said. She now gets Darvoset and aspirin—nothing else—at about 3:30 AM and 6:30 AM.
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Be thankful for that evidence on your Thanksgiving Day, and although Ruburt did not read as well today, the eyes are indeed still improving.
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(I’d ordered a turkey dinner to go with Jane’s. They weren’t bad, although my pie was left off the order. I brought home some of the leftovers for another meal. Jane had a little trouble with the turkey, which wasn’t the tenderest in the world, and ate a lot of dressing and gravy instead. It seemed weird not to have cranberry sauce with the Thanksgiving meal, but all in all things worked well enough.
(I massaged Jane with Oil of Olay after I turned her, took my nap, checked the TV programs for the evening, said the prayer with her, and left at about 7:05. Margaret Bumbalo had asked me over for a drink when I got home, but I was in no hurry. “I do have a lot to be thankful for,” Jane said, and I agreed. “And let’s look forward to what we’ll have next Thanksgiving,” I said, as I kissed her good night.
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