John Leveranz is around and is he trying on my clothes or what? I think so - I'm talking to him - don't know where we are but we're inside a building more like an office or school than anything else and something's between us and some other people - he's also looking at a bill that he's supposed to pay, it has my name on it and he remarks "you're still married, aren't you?", which is startling, until I realize that, yes, I am, I just don't like to think about it - I'm going back to the other people and he finishes (picking out clothes?) and when he's all dressed I'm secretly pleased that he should think I dress well because I have the silk shirt, etc. I'm wearing purple, something pretty hip but can't describe now. Later, LT people are cleaning up a house, being impeccable, natch - I'm doing something in the kitchen that involves a little figure of a mouse or rabbit like a Beatrix Potter. It's edible, in horizontal slices, and I want to leave it for Sue S. but as I eat the least crucial parts it gets shorter of course until I think it's no longer ok. There's a bit of yard up front of this place which doesn't seem to have a front wall and it's not grass, but rather loose dirt. I pick up a handful and look at it - it has bits in it, pieces of pecan, maybe other identifiable not-dirt. Wonder how it got there. I go back and sit at a table with somebody and Ann Morrison arrives. She's colored her hair dark and changed her makeup completely, new hairstyle, too - and looks great but nothing like usual. I'm impressed. She says something about it but I don't remember what - I'm thinking marriage has certainly been good for her.