Yesterday I was off island at my friend's father's funeral. Well, it was a cremation, actually. It was a humanist service and really very beautiful. I usually emerge from funeral services like a wrung out rag with eyes like piss-holes in the snow, but today it was really uplifting - a celebration of his life.
I did get weepy when my friend's daughter, who's only just into her teens, started talking about her grampa and only managed a few lines before breaking down. But she regained her composure and not only finished
Showing posts with label Day 5. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Day 5. Show all posts
9 Jun 2015
Hestia's ... Creative Day 5
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Explore the ruined citadel of m'blog:
-
The knitting of socks has progressed to the level that I can actually help another friend when she is stuck in her sock pattern. This is som...
-
This could be me. The clothes, not the Colin Firth. If there is ONE phrase that strikes fear into my heart and mirth into Tartarus'...
-
So, I'm sick of looking at myself in jeans, so I thought I'd buy a couple of day dresses. But since I live in rambling Victorian ho...