Cemetery Trip

I still owe you all pics from our cemetery trip the weekend before last.  This is your warning that you're about to embark on a journey with a fat guy in a white tee that he probably should not have ever worn in public, rainy day or not.

I should also note that I got all the flowers I took down that day from a couple of cool booths at the Dixie Peddlers Mall.  The flags I brought were leftovers from my own booth 4th of July stock.

Putting flowers on my grandmother's grave

I always have to take a couple of minutes to chat with my grandmother when I'm there.  Out of everyone at the cemetery, I miss her the most.  My cousin who lives across the road says that she comes over and talks to Grammie all the time.  She was something else, my grandmother.

My grandfather's parents

My grandfather has two flags, because I brought one and the one the VFW put out on Memorial Day was still there.  

My grandmother's parents

This is the plainest my great grandparents grave has ever looked.  Bit by bit, the ones who do most of the flower-bringing are fading away.  I wish I lived close enough to get down there more often.

I need to do something about all those bare hooks at my parents' graves.  It just looks kind of sad.  At least one of them needs to go, but I start to fear that someone will come over and not have a place to put some flowers.  The hook on the far right is the one my mother used to put out flowers for my father.  Next time I'm down there, I'll move it between the graves and take the middle hook, that I put in.

Missing Mama

I wasn't sold on that saddle arrangement, until I saw it on her tombstone.

It's a good thing I brought the flags.  Dad's VFW flag had broken off, so I replaced it with this one.  I cannot believe it's been almost ten years.

Finally, a shot of me cleaning bird shit off Dad's grave with my bare hands!  (I used a lot of hand sanitizer when I got back in the van.)  It was just a small spot.