My uncle died suddenly and unexpectedly right before Palm Sunday. It has been a great shock to my family. He never complained about feeling sick, but apparently he had heart disease, which he never told us. He wasn't one to complain much about anything, except politicians. I like to think that he died without any regrets. He got to see the world at a young age, and continued to travel throughout his life. Except for the last couple of years, when he stayed close to home and took care of his dogs. The last few weeks haven't been easy.
Was it John Donne who wrote that each man's death diminshes us all? "Ask not for whom the bell tolls." Or am I remembering it wrong?
Somehow I've managed to make quite a bit of progress on the Yankees logo. I feel like I'm just rounding third and heading home, at least as far as the stitching goes. But the finishing won't take very long. I never got to finish poor Taz, but he'll be ready for next Easter (I hope).
I gave up reading John Buchan because the attitudes toward minorities were just too outdated for me. I realize that the times were different then, but the third book in the series grated on me and I couldn't finish it. I haven't quite finished "Through the Looking Glass" either, but that's not from a lack of enthusiasm for it. I got sidetracked with two mysteries by Lindsey Davis, the latest two in her excellent series set in Ancient Rome, Saturnalia and Alexandria. Marcus Didius Falco is one of my favorite detectives, but you don't have to like mysteries to enjoy these books. They're well writen, funny, and extremely entertaining.