Pretty much a professional day

No writing today. I was more a work person, though Jeannie and I went plant shopping this morning. I got lots of pots and some herbs, plus one hanging basket. Still need two more baskets, plus oregano and mint. Not sure why I walked by all the varieties of mint the nursery had, but the oregano was huge pots and I wawnt 4".  Greg is coming tomorrow to talk about what to do with what.
After lunch at Carshon's with Jeannie, I came home for a quick nap--it's an addiction by now--then to a 3:00 p.m.meeting at the press. I sure hope they don't do that often because it messes up my day.But it was a meeting I couldn't miss, mostly talking about the acquisitions list, which is my baliwick.
Then home for a quick change and off to the annual Friends of the Library dinner. Over dinner, I had a most interesting and far-ranging talk with the assistant dean of the library and one of the members of the Friends board. Talked ranged from the little lizard that crawled out of the hanging plant I bought today--Jeannie did NOT want it in her car--to contractors, travels, and phobias.
The speaker was Deborah Dean, author Madonnas of Leningrad, and she was fascinating. Her book is aboiut the crating and shipping of the valuable art to get it out of the Hermitage before the Nazis bombed and how some of the museum staff lived in bomb shelters under the museum during the bombing. One man used to give tours of the museum, pointing to empty frames and speaking eloquently about the works of art that belonged there. They have now, of course, all been returned to their frames. But Deborah's talk about how she became a writer, how she researched and wrote the novel, and her trip to Russia was inspirational. She wrote the book without having been to Russia but went there three weeks before the final manuscript was due to "make sure I got it right." A really pleasant evening, with a Russian meal to accompany it--pirogues instead of salad (there went the diet) and chicken Kiev.
A long day,and I'm sleepy. No deep thoughts, except that folks should read The Madonnas of Leningrad. Jeannie dropped off her copy of The Help today, which I think everyone but me has read. Mel, who grew up in Jackson, Mississippi, where it's set, says it's dead one, so it's next on my list after I finish the Kate Carlisle mystery I'm reading. Such a lovely luxury to have time for reading in retirement.