R. and I had dinner beforehand at Ginger Court.
Before that, I decided to write a few more charity checks, rather than leave it to the absolute last possible moment which is what I did last year. And when I got the stack of paperwork for charity solicitations that I had been collecting, I discovered that the letter from my insurance agent had somehow crawled into the middle of that pile, which is why I couldn't find it the previous day. Oh well! Fortunately, it gave his current phone number AND his office hours, so I called him and we chatted. I got to tell him the story of the ceiling damage from last August that was recently completely repaired without me ever seeing a bill, and thus without generating any claims on the insurance.