It was with horror, amusement and a lingering sense of having my hand in some kind of psychic cookie jar that I learned at Grace Hicks’ memorial service yesterday that one of the Beacon Church ladies is a ‘lurker’ on this blog. I will refer to her as Aunt Ev until she steps up and gives herself a moniker. Picture the most well-dressed, soignee individual, approaching six feet in height, who took up community theater acting in the last few years, the possessor of what I consider to be the best hairstyle at the church, & a wicked sense of humour and an ability to be the only person in the room who thinks something without caving to social pressure in expressing it – picture smarts, a really cool hubby, hospitality that is both gracious and practical… Yes, I could spend a while enumerating her virtues, attributes, and accomplishments and not run out of things to praise. Welcome!
Grace’s memorial service was everything a service like that should be. Well attended without being a crush of people – a small enough gathering that everybody who wanted to speak memories had air time – excellent food and company – many pictures of her life, growing up in Kelleher SK – I sat off in one far corner (I only met her the once) and solicited memories of her from various Beaconites. I salute you, Grace – you were a truly remarkable woman. Her middle son characterized her with a single word – supportive. There’s something to the sinews of the Saskatchewan farm women that is truly nation building.
Then, oh then. Right next door to the funeral home was a…. Long and McQuade. So if I’m with Tom and Peggy, musical co-conspirators since longtime, I’m going to stay out of a Long and McQuade? I got a mandolin chord chart, located a really nice Sublime ball cap which I may pick up for Katie’s grad, and watched Tom and Peggy cruise the acoustic guitar and electric bass rooms. I saw a parlor guitar that had me drooling, and for some reason started jonesing on an electric violin, but managed to get out with only the chord chart.
Then the folks dropped me off at the Braid station, and then I went and sat around at Lougheed Station and got on the 110 to get to Brother Jerome’s. I was the ONLY person on the bus for most of the run, and that was okay. Got off at the Greentree Village stop, lugging my beer and weenies, computer, Georgia Straight and umberella and chord chart in the pouring bloody rain, and got there really early, only one other person showed up, whom I won’t name because whilst demonstrating her fabulous ability to do splits and other feats of agility and flexibility, she whacked herself on the eyebrow (same place I got myself when I was a kid and wiped out on the ice in the neighbour’s yard) and probably ended up getting a stitch or two in hospital.
As always Jerome and Shannon threw a partay of unmixed blessings (well, except for the gal wot had the accident) and stunning food (Mike’s grace note, a bucket of chewy candy) and a really really great soundtrack. (Much U2, Warren Zevon, Tom Petty, Coldplay, etc). There was beer, massage and chicken kebabs; there was Wii (I abstained), many laughs, some philosophy, and Shannon bought the same plates I did at Ikea, which made me laugh…. Oh, and Heather admired a couple of books of Jerome’s and he handed them to her. He said, “My mother gave me those and told me somebody would come along and want them, so take them.” (It’s the Urantia book and the concordance, if anybody cares.)
Today I head off to Augur Inn to do one last widdy bit of touchup and cleaning, but first I’m going to try to straighten out my bedroom, do laundry and more to the point PUT AWAY laundry, and maybe do something slothful like have a hot bath and give myself a facial. The living room side of the apartment is reasonably tidy, but the other side is definitely THE DARK SIDE.