A Toast

This has been a very strange weekend, the normal parts of which would have made an interesting diary entry in themselves, but have rather subsumed themselves into the good news and the bad news.

The good news was visiting Ayla, the very new daughter of some friends, who is cute and sweet and very Awwwww-worthy.

The bad news is finding out that Steve Hodgson, a good friend, has suddenly died of a heart attack. Steve was one of those really neat guys that form a place in your psyche that belongs to them and them only. He was cuddly and kind, and would occasionally giggle at a particularly good joke. He was one of the most lethal people I know, all with a twinkle in his eye. He was technically very knowledgeable, and liked passing his knowledge on. He was exceptionally good at helping people overcome what they had thought were their limits, and helping them find out that their limits weren't nearly so bad after all. He looked out for people. He was one of a small group of people who knew my father, and a big link with the past feels broken. As I write this, I'm still trying to wrap my head around the idea that he isn't around any more.

Anyway. Ladies and gentlemen, please raise your glasses and drink to old friends gone too soon, and new friends to whom everything is new and exciting.