Attended a happy celebration of an amazing life; I found it difficult to be joyous with grief simultaneously hanging heavy.
Someday I’ll try to tell the pie story, a singular, true tale that cannot fail to induce gales of laughter. RIP, Lady N.
In a totally different moment and conversation, I heard about a six-year old, keeping himself busy in part by singing lyrics JCB played for him last summer…his version included “when the gals of November came early!” My suspicion: his vocab didn’t/doesn’t extend to “gales.”