Who knew that Kinko’s wasn’t open all night and closed at 9PM? They sent the proofs for the memorial service and they couldn’t even spell Friday right. I forwarded it to my sister and kept badgering her, but she was out with some silly knit blogger and by the time I called Kinko’s, they were closed. I thought they were all open until at least midnight, but all the ones on the list I saw closed at 9PM. So, maybe we’re going to make the programs with crayon or a ‘ditto’ machine. Ah, well.

I’m also supposed to say something about my father. I had lots of ideas, but as soon as I said I’d do it, I forgot them all. I can say something about how he would have wanted everyone to leave him alone at a time like this, but that he’d also have been mad if no one had shown up. I can say something about his artsy-craftsy side and how I’m going to have to sort through a thousand slides of trees after I dig through all the candy and toys he liked to buy. (When they were taking pictures before my sister’s wedding, he was busy trying to take pictures of some flowers in the garden.) As his son, he infuriated me often, but just by doing odd things. He was never mean, just a little passive-aggressive and a whole lot of goofy.

Well, I’ll have to figure out what I’m saying tomorrow. Today I just filled up two 45-gallon shopping bags by shredding old bank records from 1990-2003. Man that’s a lot of old checks and credit card receipts.