I played for a funeral this morning. It was for a man who was only 44 and had been a sheriff deputy. There was a lot of law enforcement there. A lot, like one whole side of the church. They came from the towns and the county and probably from elsewhere, too. It was a touching service. If any of you remember the Gils, Bret and Grant were the boys, I accompanied Bret and a friend on one of the solos. Bret is about a junior or senior now. He just towers over me. He has a very nice voice, too. The other solo was done by a gal from church who is also an officer with the county sheriff’s dept. She did a nice job, but I could see that it was hard for her. Then after the service, everyone was gathered outside and they had put the urn of ashes in the back of the hearse and closed the door, when a page came over everyone’s radio (the officers have them on their uniform), paging the number of the man who had died. It was very moving, even if you didn’t know the guy. They paged 3 times, then said some other code number that I didn’t know the meaning of. He wasn’t killed in the line of duty – he got some rare lung condition that then weakened his heart and that is what he died of. It sounded like he was a very nice guy – they kept saying what a perfect fit he was for his job. Anyway, that was my morning. This afternoon, I tackle the porch and finish the other laundry.