Friday flew by. Mr. Hall was 
busy working at another funeral home for the day and Mrs. Hall was scurrying about, sprucing up the grounds. It was 4:45 pm before they knew it and time to call it a day. "I'll pick you up in 10 minutes," called Mr. Hall, "the Norris' are meeting us at Daniel's." Warm and sunny, the clement clime had brought lots of customers into the Hall's favorite haunt and they were lucky to get in the bar. Bon vivant Hugh Norris and his lovely wife Joyce met them there, and much to Stephanie, the bartender's surprize, they took a table in the dining room for a change. "
Here's to five happy years past, 
and to many, many more to come!" they toasted. Excellent food and even better company make an evening to remember, and that was true for the Halls' anniversary; they cleared their plates and glasses, too and even saved room for some of Dan's signature pumpkin crème brûlée for dessert. (It was off-menu, but the waitress saved the last two for their table!) They waved goodbye to their friends and drove home. As the big black car rolled back into the hanger, there were a dozen red roses waiting for Mrs. H. in the Hall. As it probably needs no more elaboration, the Monitor will leave it to the Gentle Reader's imagination as to how the rest of the evening unfolded.
busy working at another funeral home for the day and Mrs. Hall was scurrying about, sprucing up the grounds. It was 4:45 pm before they knew it and time to call it a day. "I'll pick you up in 10 minutes," called Mr. Hall, "the Norris' are meeting us at Daniel's." Warm and sunny, the clement clime had brought lots of customers into the Hall's favorite haunt and they were lucky to get in the bar. Bon vivant Hugh Norris and his lovely wife Joyce met them there, and much to Stephanie, the bartender's surprize, they took a table in the dining room for a change. "
Here's to five happy years past, 
and to many, many more to come!" they toasted. Excellent food and even better company make an evening to remember, and that was true for the Halls' anniversary; they cleared their plates and glasses, too and even saved room for some of Dan's signature pumpkin crème brûlée for dessert. (It was off-menu, but the waitress saved the last two for their table!) They waved goodbye to their friends and drove home. As the big black car rolled back into the hanger, there were a dozen red roses waiting for Mrs. H. in the Hall. As it probably needs no more elaboration, the Monitor will leave it to the Gentle Reader's imagination as to how the rest of the evening unfolded.
It's that time of the year
Frost warnings had begun to cr
eep into the weather reports. The big black car was washed and waxed; the fluids were checked and ready for cooler temps. A colorful variety of pumpkins appeared amidst the new maroon mums and remaining hardy geraniums on the porch. "You know what time it is," remarked Mrs. Hall, and Mr. Hall nodded in agreement. 
"It's time to go home." Cynthia Kingston, aunt to Mrs. Hall and hostess extraordinaire, had issued invitations again to her yearly family reunion down in that Bagdad-on-the-Susquehanna, Waverly, New York. The family began assembling at her home on Fulton Street and it wasn't long before the house was filled with good food, warm hugs and non-stop laughter. 
The younger set wove a happy pattern beneath and around the legs of their elders. The front door was a constant blur, swinging open wide with each cheery arrival, and some had travelled quite a distance to join them. Hot and cold running commentary was the order of the day; on everything from the renovations to the living room and the kitchen (much improved and approved!) 
to the beleaguered local sports teams and the midterm elections- all washed down with lots of homemade casseroles and desserts. A few off-hand moments are shown here for the Gentle Reader's enjoyment, along with a splendid photo (courtesy of Diane's camera) of some the Women of Waverly. Kudos to Cynthia for another triumph; she certainly knows how to make everyone 
feel warm, welcome and at ease. (Left to right: Theresa, Betsy, Cynthia, Helen, Mrs. Hall, Diane and June, and in the chair, little Jay.)
eep into the weather reports. The big black car was washed and waxed; the fluids were checked and ready for cooler temps. A colorful variety of pumpkins appeared amidst the new maroon mums and remaining hardy geraniums on the porch. "You know what time it is," remarked Mrs. Hall, and Mr. Hall nodded in agreement. 
"It's time to go home." Cynthia Kingston, aunt to Mrs. Hall and hostess extraordinaire, had issued invitations again to her yearly family reunion down in that Bagdad-on-the-Susquehanna, Waverly, New York. The family began assembling at her home on Fulton Street and it wasn't long before the house was filled with good food, warm hugs and non-stop laughter. 
The younger set wove a happy pattern beneath and around the legs of their elders. The front door was a constant blur, swinging open wide with each cheery arrival, and some had travelled quite a distance to join them. Hot and cold running commentary was the order of the day; on everything from the renovations to the living room and the kitchen (much improved and approved!) 
to the beleaguered local sports teams and the midterm elections- all washed down with lots of homemade casseroles and desserts. A few off-hand moments are shown here for the Gentle Reader's enjoyment, along with a splendid photo (courtesy of Diane's camera) of some the Women of Waverly. Kudos to Cynthia for another triumph; she certainly knows how to make everyone 
feel warm, welcome and at ease. (Left to right: Theresa, Betsy, Cynthia, Helen, Mrs. Hall, Diane and June, and in the chair, little Jay.) 
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