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I was in Dunkirk twice this week — on Wednesday I planted flowers on ancestral graves, and weeded on that I appalled was in such condition that I usually don’t care for — my uncle “Peanuts”. I also found another relative buried there I never noticed before. Befotre my evening meeting at the Beaver Club, I grabbed a hot dog at the park. Taking my time and having the mindset of a pilgramage made me wish I took more time for myself more often. But of course I missed the company of my wife.

Saturday — a day of perfect weather — was Convoy of Care, where I forgot myself and got a sunburn. The bullhorn proved moderately useful. I embarassed myself at Karaoke (which I think is Japanes for “Honest, I can sing”) dedicating “King of the Road” to my Mom. I redeemed myself with “Amazing Grace” which I insisted would be acapella, as the twangy country version would not do. Then I spent a bit of time at the pier, chatting with Christina on my cell phone about how camp was, etc.. A wonderful day.