Tuesday Twitterdeedum

~~A triple scoop~~

Would somebody please tell Gary and Carol Pietsch how much I appreciate those iris starts they gave me three years ago?

Maybe Gary's still reading the blog and maybe he'll just see that the iris are doing just fine, thank you.

And, Kelsi, the Camp iris you gave me are putting out their aromatic fragrances in the north garden and on the west lawn. If I could send out the fragrance, I would.

I snipped off a Camp iris the other night and gave it to a visitor from the Mennonite community who came with her hubby to buy our boat. First, she carried a bouquet of lilacs around the yard. Then, I took her to the Camp iris and told her to inhale.

"That's like perfume!" she said.

So, when they left with the boat, she went off with a bouquet of rapturous spring fragrances---and pretty flowers.

~~~~~

I'm still thinking a lot about the funeral I attended yesterday. My friend and classmate Sean, who seemed to be a friend to everyone by the size of the turnout, would not have liked to have a lot of pomp and circumstance at his funeral.

So, they kept it short, really short---no more than ten minutes, and that could even be stretching it a bit.

During that time, Sean's nephew said a prayer or two and told of Sean's faith being clearly exposed in the living, not the preaching. He also brought the house down when he announced that Sean never started a fight but he never lost one either.

At the reception, during the toast, Ernie Belwood said the reason Sean's brother Pat has so many friends is that if people weren't nice to Pat, Sean would beat them up.

Pat has sold a car or two over the years down there at Taylor-Parker, including some to the Love family. Pat told me yesterday he's headed to Alaska today to catch a fish or two with Chuck Heath and Adrian Lane on the Copper River.

During the service, I sat next to Dave Ebbett, whom I hadn't seen in several years. That doesn't matter, though. Dave and I and Smokey Chubb, who was there too, are permanently bonded by our beginnings at Lincoln School.

Dave didn't recognize a lot of people, so I did commentary for him. And, one thing about a funeral like that, you haven't seen a lot of those folks for decades.

There's a routine: Look at the face. Detect the familiarity, add a few years mentally and usually you can come up with the answer before they come up to you and say hi.

I was pretty good at recognition, but it took me a minute to figure out Judy Shoemaker. Jim Bloxom, whom I'd last seen at another classmate's funeral (Doug Pennington), helped me out. Judy, it was great reconnecting with you again.

Maggie Becker and I walked from the funeral home over to the VFW---after all, Sean was a Navy and Vietnam Veteran. It was kinda quiet when we first walked in, but soon the place was packed, just like the funeral home.

Funerals like that are like reunions, and people were standing in amazement all over the facility as they realized out loud who that face belonged to or how much someone had changed in appearance over the years.

Some people don't do that. I was telling Bill this morning that Mary Verdal has stood still in time, it seems. She looks the same every time I see her, and I've known her for years. I told her she was aging well.

And, Cherry, I know you're reading from down there in Plano (where Dave Ebbett happened to live for a number of years before moving back to Idaho -- Coeur d'Alene), I told Sandy Haugse that I'd tell you about seeing her there.

I have a feeling that the many images of so many faces from the past and the little snippets of conversation will keep me thinking for a long time about what a nice final party Sean inspired.

And, there were no fist fights to settle!

If people could go through their earthly journeys leaving a singular impression of generosity, fun, and zest for life like he did, their lives would definitely be well-lived.

Truly an inspiration for each day as we get up, drink that coffee and wonder how to take on the day ahead.