This morning, I got in the Tercel with Kathe and Waldy and drove to Milwaukie for a Slayton family gathering. Many Slaytons were in attendance, as was a facsimile of the famous Slayton family history of 1898. Kathe's distant cousin Deke Slayton was not there, being deceased, but you can't have everything. I did enjoy meeting several persons who knew the correct way to spell Lucile.
We arrived home to find a message from my cousin Mike, informing me that his mother, my aunt Dorothy Westphal, sister to my father, had died. I reached my brother Tom, my brother David and my parents at the family event they were holding in Roseburg, a joint outing for David and Tom's small children (Kathe and I don't have any more small ones, having started earlier).
Meanwhile, in less wholesome parts of the world, right-wing harpies are trying to wedge open any cracks they can find between Cindy Sheehan and her family, and right-wing necromancers are trying to turn her dead son against her.
Fortunately, my family isn't famous.
//The Magic 8-Ball says, "Be careful what you wish for."\\
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