From the top of the first page.
I'll first say that God's blessings are far easier to see in the summer than the winter nights. My most dominant, green eyed blessing won't grace me as often a few months from now, so I'm glad to live out the days as I do.
Venting is inevitable- I'm sick and tired of bullshit soccer matches in which I'm placed in inactive portions of the field, forced to run to and fro in the pretense that I'm part of the game, driving me to self images of lesser skill than I know to be true. Yet away with childish complaints; that isn't what I'm about.
Triä was a more magnificent restaurant than I'd ever imagined. Inside and out it looked fantastic, and the service was both kind and efficient; I work at an international convention center and I was very impressed throughout the weekend. On Saturday morning, both sides of Carolyn's family planted a tree in her honor. The land has a pond and the Triä development on one side, and on the other is a vast marsh land; it was beautiful, and most of us felt the need to say it. When the memorial park is finished, the site will read "Chocolate is important," as was Carolyn's wish. Doug, Carolyn's husband and my uncle, was at the celebration in the clothes that they had made themselves to wear on their wedding day. Everyone has heard what a quavering voice sounds like when an adult is close to tears. Doug described his wear in that manner and it almost broke me. And Morgan- the little family hurricane was crying and burrowing her head in her mom's dress, away from the ash and dirt that grounded the tree; let it be known that was the first time I had ever seen the girl cry for reasons other than her own interest and health- that hurt too. There was an spoken and unspoken beauty in every aspect of that day. The morning started dark and with rain, but without embelishment, the sun came out as we approached her resting ground. I regret that I didn't know Carolyn as I'd have liked to; what I did know I knew from her son and daughter- when I was little I didn't feel a need to speak to my aunts and uncles, and when I matured, Carolyn's cancer took her away from many of the gatherings at which I'd have learned more about her. But the sadness was there and I was quiet for much of the weekend; I only didn't cry due to a consant inhumane flaw, but I was closer than I'd been in a long time. Musically, the celebration of her life held a bagpipesman, a harp, a string quartet, and a Celtic band- I wish for anyone reading this to have been there. At dinner there was a dessert table with a palm tree in which the trunk was pineapples stacked end to end. Skewered into the tropical symbol were marshmallows, strawberries, and of course more pineapple. These and other wonders were in bottomless bowls to dip in either of two chocolate fountains. If you just read all of that, I thank you much for taking a moment, and encourage your to visit Triä if you're ever in the White Bear Lake area. Goodnight world.
Venting is inevitable- I'm sick and tired of bullshit soccer matches in which I'm placed in inactive portions of the field, forced to run to and fro in the pretense that I'm part of the game, driving me to self images of lesser skill than I know to be true. Yet away with childish complaints; that isn't what I'm about.
Triä was a more magnificent restaurant than I'd ever imagined. Inside and out it looked fantastic, and the service was both kind and efficient; I work at an international convention center and I was very impressed throughout the weekend. On Saturday morning, both sides of Carolyn's family planted a tree in her honor. The land has a pond and the Triä development on one side, and on the other is a vast marsh land; it was beautiful, and most of us felt the need to say it. When the memorial park is finished, the site will read "Chocolate is important," as was Carolyn's wish. Doug, Carolyn's husband and my uncle, was at the celebration in the clothes that they had made themselves to wear on their wedding day. Everyone has heard what a quavering voice sounds like when an adult is close to tears. Doug described his wear in that manner and it almost broke me. And Morgan- the little family hurricane was crying and burrowing her head in her mom's dress, away from the ash and dirt that grounded the tree; let it be known that was the first time I had ever seen the girl cry for reasons other than her own interest and health- that hurt too. There was an spoken and unspoken beauty in every aspect of that day. The morning started dark and with rain, but without embelishment, the sun came out as we approached her resting ground. I regret that I didn't know Carolyn as I'd have liked to; what I did know I knew from her son and daughter- when I was little I didn't feel a need to speak to my aunts and uncles, and when I matured, Carolyn's cancer took her away from many of the gatherings at which I'd have learned more about her. But the sadness was there and I was quiet for much of the weekend; I only didn't cry due to a consant inhumane flaw, but I was closer than I'd been in a long time. Musically, the celebration of her life held a bagpipesman, a harp, a string quartet, and a Celtic band- I wish for anyone reading this to have been there. At dinner there was a dessert table with a palm tree in which the trunk was pineapples stacked end to end. Skewered into the tropical symbol were marshmallows, strawberries, and of course more pineapple. These and other wonders were in bottomless bowls to dip in either of two chocolate fountains. If you just read all of that, I thank you much for taking a moment, and encourage your to visit Triä if you're ever in the White Bear Lake area. Goodnight world.