We continue to have near perfect fall weather. Sunny, but cooling.

Sunday, the husband and I did a fundraiser called Base 2 Space. The task is to walk the 848 steps up the Space Needle. I did it in 10 minutes and 14 seconds. I'm writing this down so that I can look up my time next year.

Sunday evening we invited Behr, Fireman, QJ, C6 & Tye over for dinner. We have known this crowd for decades and seen each other go through so much. Three of our dinner's attendees are in recovery programs. One is on a disability pension. One has had a heart transplant. 

For all of our conundrums, my husband and I have a wonderful life. 

There but for the grace of God go I. 

 

Quiet weekend. The weather has been wonderful. 

We've been planning out our travel for the next year. A couple of big trips are happening for us, and and so we are digging into the details.

I find that I am developing an allergy to the word "luxury." Some of our travel companions are very excited by such experiences. I am less enthusiastic. I'm trying to clearly explain to myself why, but the words are not coming easily. 

Our trips--

Mid October to New Mexico to visit a friend, see the balloon festival, and tour other New Mexican sights.

February-- probably a trip to Thailand with Evan and Allen to celebrate Allen's sixtieth birthday. 

August next year--- a trip to France and then the Azores. Some old college friends have invited us along and I really want to spend time with them. 

I Expected It To Not Have Pieces

For years, the ashes of my husband's brother and father have sat in boxes in our closet. While I'm uncertain of why we kept his brother's ashes for so long, my husband's father died during the Covid lockdown, preventing us from holding a proper funeral.

Recently, my husband's niece was in town for a visit. This was a rare occasion- the first time in years that my husband's entire family was in the same city. Seizing this moment, they decided to fulfill the long-delayed task of spreading the ashes of both my husband's father and brother.

My husband's niece bought a small urn to keep a some of her father's ashes. As she and my husband carefully transferred some ashes, she suddenly exclaimed, "I expected it to not have pieces." Her words brought the reality of the situation into focus, stirring emotions amongst the two. 

Deciding where to spread the ashes sparked lengthy discussions. My husband's father had expressed only one wish: that his ashes were to be scattered in the Sierra Nevadas. However, we faced practical challenges. My husband's mother, being disabled, can't travel or walk long distances. Instead of the Sierras, we settled on a public park atop of a local mountain in Seattle's eastern suburbs.

Sunday morning, my husband's family gathered at our home for breakfast, a moment of togetherness before the solemn task ahead. We then drove to the chosen location.

We were high enough up the mountain that clouds shrouded the park. Even though there were a few hikers, we managed to find a quiet spot. Each family member shared personal stories and heartfelt words. Finally, when the hikers were gone and we were alone, my husband stepped forward and poured the ashes over a cliff edge. With heavy hearts but a sense of fulfillment, we said our final goodbyes and made our way back home. 

We have been in Wisconsin for a few days, for a wedding on my husband's fatger's family side. There was a bit of logistics drama as the fire marshal declined to certify the dining venue for the number of invited guests. We spent a day and a half with the family, setting up and decorating a dining tent. It all turned out well though.

We got to meet and hang out with my husband's cousins and there kids. 

The brick... Decades ago my husband's father donated to the local VFW and subsequently had his name engraved on a brick incorporated into the build. Years later, the VFW remodeled again. The husband's cousin retrieved that brick from the rubble and gave it to us at the wedding. A fun memento of the husbands father. 

When we moved, I planted a few vegetables. I just harvested some lettuce. I planted a few other vegetables, but they did not flourish.

The weekend was social. Meals with family or friends each day since Friday. 

Saturday Evan and Allen hosted a BBQ. Allen's 60th Birthday is in January and he wants to celebrate in Thailand and has inited us along. My husband and I are thinking it through. Evan and Allen are close friends, but there is something nice about traveling without others.

Over the weekend a family friend died. He was my father's age and had been struggling for years. My father mentioned that the wake was not well attended. We are not too surprised. This friend never went out of his way to build relationships. 

This friend was always busy working on the farm and had little respect for those who didn't do the same. As my brother joked about this friend's approach to life... "If you weren't running, you weren't moving fast enough." This friend wouldn't care about the attendance at his wake. There is so much work to be done. Why waste time mourning the dead?