The Wet Sunday Evening Post
We went back to NY for my grandmother's funeral. Flew on United; w/o problems. In fact, the flight attendants seemed almost courteous for a change. Too bad it takes a bankruptcy to break bad habits.
In the extended family, my grandmother was the last of her generation to go. Everyone attending the wake and funeral were a generation, or more, younger. The adage 'I hope I die before I get old' took on a new meaning: no matter how well integrated one might be in their offsprings', grandkids', even great-grandkids' lives, it still must be lonely not having peers your age around you. Ones whom you've known well, for a long time.
I wonder a bit about the quality of her final medical care. I know I'm not unique in thinking doctors could have done more, under these circumstances. Without going into details (what's the point?), it sounded as if the doctoral decisions were made with expediency as the primary concern. I know it's useless to second guess, using hindsight, something I'm far from qualified to have an informed opinion on. Still...
Anyway, it was good to see the family back east. Everyone moving onward, following Flo.
Rain, wind and blackouts awaited us, back home in San Mateo. I've lost track of how many times the power has gone off this weekend. The land is soaked, but things look stable - for now. No slipping at yee olde slipping acres.
Saturday, we hosted a holiday party, with house concert by The Brothers Figaro. Nice turnout, nice folks, good food and great music. That's one reasonable way to move it onward. Thanks everybody.
I'm currently on a small jag of reading older russian novelists. Just finishing some short stories by Dostoyevsky and Chekhov. Next up is Gogol & maybe Puskin. I probably ought to read a few current authors too. NaNoWriMo fans might be interested to know Dostoyevsky wrote the amazing "The Gambler" in one month! His wasn't a voluntary decision though. Under pressure from creditors, Dostoyevsky sold his publisher, Stellovsky, the right to produce a collected edition of all his previous works. The price Stellovsky paid for this priviledge also carried a demand for a new book, of at least 160 pages. The devil is always in the fine print: if D didn't produce in one month, S would be given the right to reprint all Dostoyevsky's past and future work at any time, without further payment.
Lastly, CDBaby has put together a few interesting collection lists of the CDs they sell. I'm finding them helpful.
We went back to NY for my grandmother's funeral. Flew on United; w/o problems. In fact, the flight attendants seemed almost courteous for a change. Too bad it takes a bankruptcy to break bad habits.
In the extended family, my grandmother was the last of her generation to go. Everyone attending the wake and funeral were a generation, or more, younger. The adage 'I hope I die before I get old' took on a new meaning: no matter how well integrated one might be in their offsprings', grandkids', even great-grandkids' lives, it still must be lonely not having peers your age around you. Ones whom you've known well, for a long time.
I wonder a bit about the quality of her final medical care. I know I'm not unique in thinking doctors could have done more, under these circumstances. Without going into details (what's the point?), it sounded as if the doctoral decisions were made with expediency as the primary concern. I know it's useless to second guess, using hindsight, something I'm far from qualified to have an informed opinion on. Still...
Anyway, it was good to see the family back east. Everyone moving onward, following Flo.
Rain, wind and blackouts awaited us, back home in San Mateo. I've lost track of how many times the power has gone off this weekend. The land is soaked, but things look stable - for now. No slipping at yee olde slipping acres.
Saturday, we hosted a holiday party, with house concert by The Brothers Figaro. Nice turnout, nice folks, good food and great music. That's one reasonable way to move it onward. Thanks everybody.
I'm currently on a small jag of reading older russian novelists. Just finishing some short stories by Dostoyevsky and Chekhov. Next up is Gogol & maybe Puskin. I probably ought to read a few current authors too. NaNoWriMo fans might be interested to know Dostoyevsky wrote the amazing "The Gambler" in one month! His wasn't a voluntary decision though. Under pressure from creditors, Dostoyevsky sold his publisher, Stellovsky, the right to produce a collected edition of all his previous works. The price Stellovsky paid for this priviledge also carried a demand for a new book, of at least 160 pages. The devil is always in the fine print: if D didn't produce in one month, S would be given the right to reprint all Dostoyevsky's past and future work at any time, without further payment.
Lastly, CDBaby has put together a few interesting collection lists of the CDs they sell. I'm finding them helpful.
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