It was pointed out to me, quite rightly, that in yesterday's blog I was confusing the former prime minister of India with Mahatma Gandhi, which is who I was thinking of. My excuse is that I am old, and easily confused - after all, I am pushing 80.
I certainly had an early start and busy morning. It was Kiwanis at 8.30, then on to Cecil's funeral at 10.30.
One of our members - whose son went to Cambridge, and now lives in North Wales - went over to Britain where he attended the graduation at Downing College. Then the family had a holiday visiting north Wales, taking pictures, they also went to Scotland. The son actually cycled to Edinburgh, and I understand did it in two days. Said son is an environmental engineer and found a job based in north Wales. His father has accepted the fact that he won't ever be back to live in Oklahoma, there are just no openings, or ever likely to be, for environmental engineers here.
This isn't the first funeral I have been to here and I can't get my head round them. Apart from Episcopalians who don't do this, all of them regardless of denomination, open the casket and the congregation files past to look at the dear departed. I stayed in my seat for a little while, then got up and slipped out.
Fr Clark and I were rather surprised at the fact that the service was conducted by a die-hard, lifelong Republican (politics gets into everything here) and Cecil was an equally die-hard Democrat. In the opening address the Republican said that Cecil is now in Heaven where all hell has probably just broken out at the fact that his funeral is being conducted by a Republican. Everyone laughed and it lightened the atmosphere.
Last night my neighbour Donna was feeling very down, and although she is not in the habit of doing this, knocked on my door, I asked her in and sat her down. It transpired that two of her cats unfortunately had both died on the same day. One was very old - I think she was Bubbles' mother - and she just keeled over and died. Donna knew it was coming because she was nodding her head in a way - I am told - they do when they're near death.
The other cat (Bubbles learning disabled sibling, I didn't tell her she'd just lost her mother and her sibling) met a more horrific end. She was in my garden near the back fence, which is wire but not a close mesh, and one of the pit bulls behind me got its nose through the fence, and dragged the cat through it, effectively killing it in the process. Goodness knows where I was, but I was out while all this drama was playing out.
Donna called Animal Welfare and made an impassioned plea for them to come and get her cat so she could bury it.
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