Monday, May 18, 2009

In which "The Look" rears it's ugly head:

Katie is starting the last two weeks of school. I've been really impressed with her school this year. The principal has done a great job and puts a lot of emphasis on making a positive difference in the community. The teachers have been drama-free and have done a fantastic job of motivating the kids. Well, at least one kid, anyway.

Katie wanted to get to school early this morning to see one of her friends, so I took her with me. As we careened down Date Street, she was lamenting the fact that she has six semester tests coming up next week. It could have been worse - last semester she had seven of them. However, she doesn't think they will have a test in Service Learning - a community service class she's been in this semester.

"What? No test?! Couldn't they test you on recycling or something?" I asked.

"No! We didn't study recycling in that class. We studied it in science. We had to learn the three R's of recycling," she told me.

"OH! I know those! Reduce, Reuse, Reanimate!"

"No! It's Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. What's reanimate?"

"It's like when you take a dead body and bring it back to life. Sort of. You re-purpose it into a zombie."

It was at this point that I got 'the look'.

"Rachel! You are really kinda weird."

I grinned.

"No, let me rephrase that. You are REALLY REALLY WEIRD!"

"Zombies are a valid form of recycling," I grumbled.

"Zombies DON'T EXIST!"

"You say that now," I said. "But just wait until one is gnawing on your thigh bone and see what you have to say then!" I looked over at her. "Brains! Brains! Brains!"

If she keeps rolling her eyes like that, one of these days they're gonna get stuck up inside her head.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

Friday Cemetery Blogging


I took this photo while I was in San Antonio a few weeks ago.  I was wandering around a tiny little urban cemetery, lamenting the plight of the dead in tiny little urban cemeteries.  Since they don’t breathe, mabye the dead don’t mind the exhaust fumes gathering at the stop light.  And since the don’t hear, maybe they don’t notice the heavy machinery about thirty-six inches away as it excavates for an office building or a gas station or something.  

Any way, I really didn’t see much of interest, but I took a few half-hearted shots.  This was one of the last stones I photographed and I took this shot because of the unconventional inscription that listed both husbands.  I snapped the pic, then went on my way. 

But I never read the small print.  Not until a week later, after I’d returned home.  Turns out this is one of the most incredible tombstones I’ve ever photographed. 




Died Alone