I just came home from a funeral. Dennis Creek, a member of our chess club, died suddenly on Monday of a heart attack. He was one-of-a-kind and nobody can replace him. In October, he did a puppet show at his house, where he played the Wizard of Oz. He told us we could come if we brought grandchildren, so we got Nora’s family to come. Of course Nora’s kids were sad when they heard the Wizard had died. Dad and I are finding out, since we’ve been volunteering at the Harman Center, that when your friends are mostly old people, they tend to die. Dennis was our second fatality in chess club. He was the best chess player we had, and now that he’s gone, I’m #1. Not that I ever wanted that.
The same day we found out Dennis had died, we were on our way to the Harman Center, and there was a dead kitten in the road. I felt bad that we didn’t have time to stop and pick him up and give him a decent burial. Four hours later, after chess club, I went back to the spot with a shovel and a box, and the kitten was still there. He hadn’t been flattened, either. I guess everybody just drove around him. Anyway, I brought the body home in the box and Dad buried it deep in our garden. Benjamin asked me how many cats are buried there, and honestly, I’ve lost count.
If the weather weren’t so dreary, maybe I wouldn’t be so obsessed with dead cats and friends. Paul pointed out that November is a very depressing month. It’s cold and dark, and all the plants are dead, but there isn’t any snow or Christmas lights or holidays yet. I’m glad Thanksgiving is coming up soon. Make sure you let me know if you plan to come to the cabin.
Katie Brooke James will be getting married next April. They want to be sealed in the Salt Lake Temple, so they had to reserve a room way in advance–otherwise it would probably still be a secret. (Sound familiar, anyone?) She’s marrying Kevin Cheesman (pronounced Chessman) from Orem. His dad was my lab partner in chemistry at Orem High. Together, we broke more test tubes and beakers than any other partnership in the class. (It was all glass back then.) Anyway, we had the biggest bill to pay at the end of the year. I’ll have to see if he still remembers that.
Dead cats, broken glass . . . sorry this letter is so dreary. Really, I’m doin’ great and lovin’ it!