We were at Rudy's place on the beach. There were tall, steep wooden stairs. My mother was struggling to carry a huge canvas bag with straps. Me and Bob Hess offered to balance it on our shoulders but my mother didn't want any help. The bag was full of broken stuff. I said, "Rudy, do you have access to email? Can you tell Dick when you see him at the beach (that) my email address is: MerriAnderson007@hotmail.com?" He said, "What time is it?" I said, "12:45 p.m." Rich said, "By this time Dick's at "Crackie's Bar." I went to find him but I wasn't sure I was in the right place. I was listening to classical music compositions from the year 1962. I found a recording called #14. It was the one. My mother said, "In Europe people get their bathing suits on inside out all the time, so the lining's on the outside, and it's considered rude to tell them. I was sticking toothpicks into a cold baked potato, trying to make their skins rotate like a windmill--but I just ended up spilling green beans into the bowl of gravy that was inside the stove. When the leftovers got cold, the gravy was congealed like jello and my mother said, "Merri, throw that gravy in the trash." When I scooped it out I could see the canned, french cut green beans in there like worms.