life in the graveyard

First, there's this. Intriguing concept. And as someone who would go to the graveyard to walk and think, as someone who found it to be a place of solace, I thoroughly enjoyed this walk through an old life.

Then, last night, working the grave, I discovered that 5 1/2 laps around the inside of my warehouse is one mile. I ran about 15 of them. Burn baby burn. More to follow.

In addition, my godfather is back in his deathbed, after a brief and falsely-encouraging recovery. My grandmother is with him now. I will be with her soon. Blood calls blood, as they say.

And finally, some things are being buried (the dead, the DOA, the put-down), and others are being unearthed (volunteer work, running, desert memories, meditation and dream). April, as expected, is turning things in a new and needed direction. Sacrifices abound, but so it goes. So it always goes.

Post-finally: One Hundred Years of Solitude is an incredible book, and perfectly-timed for me, now. If I can, I will write a distillation when I'm done.