Brian's grandmother's funeral was Saturday morning. She was the spunkiest, kindest little thing you ever met, living a blessed 94 years, and although her body failed her, her mind was as clear as a bell right up to the end. The scene not pictured from the train ride to St. Louis is the little boy sporting his engineer overalls, who left the house before sunrise feeling a little tired but who somewhere around Jefferson City developed a raging fever. He slept fitfully and missed all the beautiful scenery and excitement. (Influenza bites, my friends, but the Tamiflu seems to be doing its thing.)
p.s. the return ride was much better.