Life, like everything else, is finite.

Even though the newspaper predicted rain, we ended up having an absolutely perfect day. It started off cool and cloudy and is finishing the same way, but in between it was glorious: sunny and clear. I took advantage and went for a walk this afternoon along my old route, down the hill to the university, through the golf course on the bike path, then back to the main intersection along Queen Street, and home again. The cadets were out on the playing field of the private school practising their colour guard, or whatever it is they do. The marching band was tootling away and the students were lined up with colourful flags, and it all seemed very festive.

The walk through the golf course was delightful. It�s not actually through, but alongside the green. Mostly the path goes through the woods where squirrels were rustling through the leaves, ferns were starting to unfurl, and the ambience was delightful. I met one cyclist coming from the opposite direction, and we nodded as we passed. Once on the main street I was beset by traffic and heavy trucks. People were sitting out at the Lion drinking beer on the terrace, and I was sorely tempted to take a break and have some myself. Passing the campus once more I spotted a colleague of mine, an English prof who has been on sabbatical this past semester, and we took a few minutes to chat.

Walking back up the hill past the private school once more, I was shocked by a very loud bang. It turned out that the students were also practising their 21-gun salute, or whatever it is, except they did it over and over again. It was an assault on the ears.

When I got home I took in the laundry from the line and carried the extremely heavy basket upstairs. I remember remarking that it was very heavy when the clothes were wet. It seemed just as heavy when they were dry.

Bored yet?

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Okay, that was just an interlude. My mother-in-law phoned this morning to tell us that my husband�s uncle, her brother-in-law, died last night. This comes barely a week after the death of another of my husband�s relatives, his father�s late brother�s widow. Hubby had considered going to his aunt�s funeral--it was in Detroit--but it was the day his taxes were due and he was still finishing marking exams and assignments for yesterday�s deadline. However, the funeral for his uncle is on Monday morning, which means we can take the weekend to drive down and see my mom at the same time.

The problem with getting older is that those people who started out before you reach the finish line first. So to speak. His uncle would have turned 90 this year. His aunt was in her 70s.

I was going to post an essay on aging, but this doesn�t seem like the right time to do it. Now I have to go see what piece of pottery got broken. Have Weldbond, will repair.���

Quick update: The funeral is on Saturday, so we�ll be leaving tomorrow. You won�t see me for a few days. Bye.

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