This weekend was an odd one, being both busy and relaxing.
On Saturday, my wife and I wandered around the Arbor Day Farm in Nebraska City. I'd hoped it would be more pretty like, full of changing leaves and the smell of the coming winter. Instead, it was as if half of the trees decided to keep their leaves and their mighty green shade, while the other half thought it best to just drop their load in one fell swoop and forgo the whole, color change, pretty phase. All in all though, it was a pleasant day, and it made us feel like we were in some mighty forest--even if it is just Nebraska. That was topped off by some good times with friends, spent in discussion and the watching of Brad Bird's under appreciated gem, The Iron Giant.
Then, yesterday, saw the glorious finish of my critical essay and the somber--albeit peaceful--finish to an extraordinary life. A woman from my church had her funeral yesterday. She was only 28. It's impossible not to consider your own life during such a time, whether or not you've touched anyone's life--especially in the light of someone that had, so visibly, affected so many lives. But if I continue on, I'll just slip into cliches (which is a sad fact in and of itself, that we can't write about death without sounding like parrots).
Anyway, happy day to you all. Gibberish tomorrow. I'm thinking another robot week is in order.
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