Went to a wake/memorial for a few friends, including Joyce, whom I wrote about a few weeks ago. There were some great stories about all of them. Her late husband, Walter, had fought at the Battle of the Bulge and apparently related a couple of stories about the horrors of that to a few of his closer friends.
As some of us were beginning to leave, this deluge swept down, with plenty of thunder and lightning accompanying the rain. So, we had to stay put for a while, meant another drink to the memories of Joyce, Walter, Louie and Charlie. While we were taking, the lights went out and the rain started to stream in overhead. It didn't bring a halt to the fun, which is the way they would have wanted it.
One of the women there is apparently 93, though she doesn't look it. She attributes her longevity to two Beefeater martinis a day and cross country skiing, which she does all winter apparently. When she goes, she's left it in her will that she wants Champagne poured at the funeral. And then she wants everyone there to divide up the rest of her liquor because her son doesn't drink.
