jiggety-jig. Whew. So that's it for the crazy summer travels (at least, the planned-out ones). Sarah and I got home a few hours ago. We woke up this morning at 3 am (pacific time), so I'm gonna try to keep this one short and sweet.
1: Paul and Ali's wedding was amazing. Expect more post in the coming days. Long story short, they are now married and honeymooning up in Door County; a good time was had by all; I did a better-than-adequate job officiating my first wedding, and I mailed the wedding certificate on time.
2: On Sunday, the day after the wedding, we drove up to Rochester, MN, as a family to visit my mother's mother, the venerable Grandma Karlson. We rushed up to see her because on Monday (yesterday) she had a long day in the hospital, with blood tests and biopsies to determine if growths recently found during a CAT scan are cancer; if so, what type; and then, what treatment (or non-treatment) action to take. Grandma had asked me to perform her Memorial Service, so this was an opportunity for us all to sit down and make certain that we wouldn't leave anything out, or violate any wishes or needs of Grandma's. No problem there. Grandma looked as well as she did when we saw her in July; better, actually, since she has had the walking boots off! She was awfully tired, but relentlessly funny. Uncle Karl John and Aunt Dorene were there (they took her to the hospital on Monday), and it was really swell to see them, too.
3: Sarah's family reunion in Colorado, at the dude ranch, was great! We were only there for a day and a half, sadly, but had a great time seeing everyone, and riding horses, and playing poker, and remembering and honoring Sarah's grandfather. Hardest goodbye? Becky's daughters, Maddie and Carly. Such sweet, cute girls--I'll post photos, and then you'll see.
4: The flight home shattered my illusions about Midwest Airlines. I remember it as being the modern-day equivalent of a zeppelin ride: opulent, luxurious, comfortable, and smooth. This flight wasn't bad, and they haven't done away with their practice of fresh-baking cookies mid-flight, but it was pretty much entirely like flying any other airline, except they were charging $10 for the in-flight lunch! The other big thumbs-down was the stopover in Kansas City, where we had to go through another security check to get from one gate to the other. Funny how the littlest things can push you over the edge.
5: I posted some days ago about Pattie Boyd, muse to both Clapton and Harrison. I want to amend my remarks a little--I think they skewed a little along the lines of "that nasty, unethical Eric Clapton, how dare he snatch his friend's wife right out from under his nose! For shame!" Let it be said that no woman is a prize to be won, and that I did a poor job honoring Pattie Boyd's choices in that affair. Further, at the time of her separation with George Harrison he was sleeping with Ringo Starr's wife. So my nice little moral construct was neatly overturned by one piece of information, leaving me with one recourse: a blanket denunciation of the decade of the Seventies, with their loose morals, and poorly thought-out adulteries. A pox on the years between 1970 and late 1978 (December, to be exact--I think the event of my own birth can be scientifically pinpointed as the moment where history righted itself).
I think that should do it for today. Here's a photo of Sarah--I am entranced by the way sunlight filters through her straw hats to make little constellations on her face and neck, and I have almost resigned myself to the fact that it is impossible to capture exactly what I am seeing and experiencing in such instances:
1: Paul and Ali's wedding was amazing. Expect more post in the coming days. Long story short, they are now married and honeymooning up in Door County; a good time was had by all; I did a better-than-adequate job officiating my first wedding, and I mailed the wedding certificate on time.
2: On Sunday, the day after the wedding, we drove up to Rochester, MN, as a family to visit my mother's mother, the venerable Grandma Karlson. We rushed up to see her because on Monday (yesterday) she had a long day in the hospital, with blood tests and biopsies to determine if growths recently found during a CAT scan are cancer; if so, what type; and then, what treatment (or non-treatment) action to take. Grandma had asked me to perform her Memorial Service, so this was an opportunity for us all to sit down and make certain that we wouldn't leave anything out, or violate any wishes or needs of Grandma's. No problem there. Grandma looked as well as she did when we saw her in July; better, actually, since she has had the walking boots off! She was awfully tired, but relentlessly funny. Uncle Karl John and Aunt Dorene were there (they took her to the hospital on Monday), and it was really swell to see them, too.
3: Sarah's family reunion in Colorado, at the dude ranch, was great! We were only there for a day and a half, sadly, but had a great time seeing everyone, and riding horses, and playing poker, and remembering and honoring Sarah's grandfather. Hardest goodbye? Becky's daughters, Maddie and Carly. Such sweet, cute girls--I'll post photos, and then you'll see.
4: The flight home shattered my illusions about Midwest Airlines. I remember it as being the modern-day equivalent of a zeppelin ride: opulent, luxurious, comfortable, and smooth. This flight wasn't bad, and they haven't done away with their practice of fresh-baking cookies mid-flight, but it was pretty much entirely like flying any other airline, except they were charging $10 for the in-flight lunch! The other big thumbs-down was the stopover in Kansas City, where we had to go through another security check to get from one gate to the other. Funny how the littlest things can push you over the edge.
5: I posted some days ago about Pattie Boyd, muse to both Clapton and Harrison. I want to amend my remarks a little--I think they skewed a little along the lines of "that nasty, unethical Eric Clapton, how dare he snatch his friend's wife right out from under his nose! For shame!" Let it be said that no woman is a prize to be won, and that I did a poor job honoring Pattie Boyd's choices in that affair. Further, at the time of her separation with George Harrison he was sleeping with Ringo Starr's wife. So my nice little moral construct was neatly overturned by one piece of information, leaving me with one recourse: a blanket denunciation of the decade of the Seventies, with their loose morals, and poorly thought-out adulteries. A pox on the years between 1970 and late 1978 (December, to be exact--I think the event of my own birth can be scientifically pinpointed as the moment where history righted itself).
I think that should do it for today. Here's a photo of Sarah--I am entranced by the way sunlight filters through her straw hats to make little constellations on her face and neck, and I have almost resigned myself to the fact that it is impossible to capture exactly what I am seeing and experiencing in such instances:
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