I love cemeteries. They have so many interesting things to see. Here is a smattering of them:
I plan to be cremated, but if I were buried, the last thing I would want is this heavy slab on top of me.
No, not that Jimi Hendrix
“Is that a…?” “I think it might be….It is a coyote in an urban cemetery!”
The whole road through the cemetery is lined with these highly pruned holly trees. I kind of like their super structure.
Christ!
I took this picture just to hear Matt say their name with a German accent.
Which he did without prompting.
I know him well.
Either Mrs. or Miss Fenstermacher was a member of the Wahkeena Chapter of the DAR.
Oftentimes it is fun to say the names on the gravestone. Say it with me: “Slack.” I also like Mrs. Slack’s name: Nettie Elnora.
I was surprised by the very Disney looking Bambi carving on this stone, but this must have been before Disney started cracking down on its copyright. Or maybe they had a whole line of Disney themed gravestones? That wouldn’t surprise me.
Poor Leo. It looks like Mrs. Schlesinger found another place to rest her head. Also, I like the simple flower carvings and the font.
The section of the cemetery we visit has more than a few abandoned husbands. Mr. Van Winkle is not going to wake up from this nap.
These are fake flowers, but I did check to see who had this grave. Most of the graves in the section we go to aren’t very decorated.
It turned out to be a baby’s grave. Those are always sad, but someone hasn’t forgotten this child.
I can never resist taking pictures of the mausoleum where my Great Uncle Tom is. Swinging early 70s meets quasi religious touches meets a TON of artificial flowers.
Marble AND a brass chainmail curtain? I love it!
“We’re not religious, but we will throw some stained glass up for those of you who are.”
Different cemetery: The MAunts (looking more and more like my grandparents every day) decorating Grandma and Grandpa’s grave.
My Grandparents’ view.
The only problem with cremation is you don’t get a gravestone. They always look so nice to me.
Their neighbor
I initially stopped because I liked their last name because it reminded me of the nursery rhyme.
But I liked what they had carved on their gravestone. For Jean: wife, mother, teacher.
For George: Father, Musician, Horseman. (I’m trying not to be annoyed that he hasn’t listed “husband” to go with his partners “wife,” because overall, I like the concept.)
I am totally giggling about this post. Maybe that is not the best way to put it. I also find it quite interesting to look at cemeteries. Sad that the husbands have been abandoned. And I totally want teacher on my headstone! -S
I LOVE this post! You would make an excellent cemetery tour guide. My dad used to take us to play in graveyards when I was a kid. We did grave rubbings and wandered around doing exactly what you did – checking out inscriptions and stories and names and whatnot. I still do it. In college I used to go to my favorite cemetery to study. And I named my first car Sadie Blue after a Sadie in a graveyard I used to live next door to. (And when you live next-door to a cemetery, you get a LOT of artificial flowers blowing into your shrubbery.)