The other day at Big Apple, the secondhand bookstore on Federal Highway, I came across a copy of Helen Muir’s memoir, Baby Grace Sees the Cow. I got to know Helen, author of Miami, U.S.A., in her later years when we both attended Trinity Cathedral. Toward the end of the memoir she complains of elderly friends who go on and on about their ailments, monologues she and her husband called “organ recitals.”
