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Dec. 9th, 2009 11:05 pmso, those were 3 interesting weeks.
week one - spokane washington, doing the practical distiller's class at dry fly distillery, waashington's first LEGAL distillery since 1916. made 4400 or so liters of mash for whiskey, and 2200-ish liters of mash for vodka. processed gin batch 47 from it's stripping runs then into rectification and filtering, and into final distillation and bottling.
i managed to snag an early flight home in a buddy holly plane, and snuck into the house and scared the shit out of tory - on the toilet at that. it was awesome.
i took her to the airport the next morning, gave her a big ol' kiss and sent her off to berlin.
week two - as planned, i headed down to st. gabriel, la, to spend turkey week with friends and family there. i stayed with one of our oldest friends and her kid, our goddaughter. we ate too much and drank too much, and i know entirely too much about every video game, boyfriend, makeup tip, fashion statement, and junior high drama that my 13 year old g-daughter has an opinion on. between the two of them they wore me the hell out. it was good though. this was the first time in almost 5 years that we'd had quality time together, not just a quick day here or weekend there.
week three - 10:30 am sunday - :::ring ring::: "hey grandma! i'm in town and i'm coming to visit. y'all free this afternoon?"
"oh sure, (grandpa)herb's taking a nap but he'll be up soon."
2:30 sunday, we walk in and grandma is having a highball (early?) and her caregiver is looking a little... off.
"hey grandma, how you doing, you remember our friend sheri, etc, etc, etc. where's grandpa?" "you didn't hear?"
"hear what?"
"cody went to wake him up at noon and he was dead. everybody just left."
wat?
"have a drink, you know where everything's at"
needless to say, we had several. then i called tory in berlin. then the family circled wagons. everybody was there within about 24 hours.
i think grandma took herb's death better than the rest of us. he was 94, she's 92 - all of their contemporaries are gone, their siblings, and half of the next generation. they had a nephew, some cousins, friends from the community (people popped in and out of the funeral on their lunch breaks to pay their respects), one surviving son, and us grandkids (i'm, the eldest at 50).
the last thing she said to him was, " you see! i didn't put you in a pine box!"
the rest of the week was consumed by the mechanics of death. make a note - always get at least 20 certified death certificates. everybody at the bank, the credit union, what have you will be so very sorry, but without the right bit of paper, even if they'd been at the funeral, it's just not going to happen.
we froze our collective balls off friday night - it freakin' snowed in south louisiana, and we were staying with a friend in the 113 year old house that grandma was born in. seriously - my balls, and all of my toes froze and broke off. oh my gawd. that house is why she's so old: it toughened her up from birth. saturday night we all got riproaring drunk and had a bonfire in the lot behind the old homestead.
then i came home. either brad or sheri gave me this freaking cold. tory will be back sunday.
and they all lived relatively happy ever after.
but just in case, i left my funeral suit in sheri's closet.
week one - spokane washington, doing the practical distiller's class at dry fly distillery, waashington's first LEGAL distillery since 1916. made 4400 or so liters of mash for whiskey, and 2200-ish liters of mash for vodka. processed gin batch 47 from it's stripping runs then into rectification and filtering, and into final distillation and bottling.
i managed to snag an early flight home in a buddy holly plane, and snuck into the house and scared the shit out of tory - on the toilet at that. it was awesome.
i took her to the airport the next morning, gave her a big ol' kiss and sent her off to berlin.
week two - as planned, i headed down to st. gabriel, la, to spend turkey week with friends and family there. i stayed with one of our oldest friends and her kid, our goddaughter. we ate too much and drank too much, and i know entirely too much about every video game, boyfriend, makeup tip, fashion statement, and junior high drama that my 13 year old g-daughter has an opinion on. between the two of them they wore me the hell out. it was good though. this was the first time in almost 5 years that we'd had quality time together, not just a quick day here or weekend there.
week three - 10:30 am sunday - :::ring ring::: "hey grandma! i'm in town and i'm coming to visit. y'all free this afternoon?"
"oh sure, (grandpa)herb's taking a nap but he'll be up soon."
2:30 sunday, we walk in and grandma is having a highball (early?) and her caregiver is looking a little... off.
"hey grandma, how you doing, you remember our friend sheri, etc, etc, etc. where's grandpa?" "you didn't hear?"
"hear what?"
"cody went to wake him up at noon and he was dead. everybody just left."
wat?
"have a drink, you know where everything's at"
needless to say, we had several. then i called tory in berlin. then the family circled wagons. everybody was there within about 24 hours.
i think grandma took herb's death better than the rest of us. he was 94, she's 92 - all of their contemporaries are gone, their siblings, and half of the next generation. they had a nephew, some cousins, friends from the community (people popped in and out of the funeral on their lunch breaks to pay their respects), one surviving son, and us grandkids (i'm, the eldest at 50).
the last thing she said to him was, " you see! i didn't put you in a pine box!"
the rest of the week was consumed by the mechanics of death. make a note - always get at least 20 certified death certificates. everybody at the bank, the credit union, what have you will be so very sorry, but without the right bit of paper, even if they'd been at the funeral, it's just not going to happen.
we froze our collective balls off friday night - it freakin' snowed in south louisiana, and we were staying with a friend in the 113 year old house that grandma was born in. seriously - my balls, and all of my toes froze and broke off. oh my gawd. that house is why she's so old: it toughened her up from birth. saturday night we all got riproaring drunk and had a bonfire in the lot behind the old homestead.
then i came home. either brad or sheri gave me this freaking cold. tory will be back sunday.
and they all lived relatively happy ever after.
but just in case, i left my funeral suit in sheri's closet.
