Horoscope? Horrorscope?

Thought I'd share my horoscope for Saturday, June 30:

Longing for the past? Those 'might have beens' are so seductive, but you have to get past the illusion and deal with the reality of where you are now. Leave memories where they belong and pay attention to the present.

Well if that doesn't make you want to just jump right into my reality world than I don't know what on earth possibly could!

Oh, by the way, can anyone tell me where exactly it is that memories belong? My neighbors across the street weren't paying attention and asked for a bit of clarification. Thanks!

License to Die Laughing Outloud

Seen on a license plate today while driving in Virginia: "I EMBALM."
Yeah, I know...just seeing the words doesn't really give you the full effect. So, here ya go...


The holder surrounding the license plate was black and inscribed with the words, "MY OTHER CAR IS A HEARSE."

This is legitimate. The license plate holders can be purchased online at the following link:

http://www.undergroundhumor.com/


I'm not lying...I laughed 'til it hurt! Seems I'm not the only person with a sense of humor in these here parts of Virginia.

In honor of today's magnificent occasion, I decided to grant everyone who reads this a few extra licenses to die laughing outloud. However, do keep in mind that there is someone already driving around with this on a vehicle in Virginia so you won't be able to as well. I know, I'm trying to contain my disappointment too.

Anyway, here are my ideas and contributions to the cause:

Although I like the whole from the mountains, to the prairies, to the oceans white with foam thing that my fellow Virginian had going on today, my car would have to be color coordinated with the seasons.

I'd also have to put a few flowers on the graves.

Please recognize that death is indeed a tragedy.

Be an organ donor - save 7 lives. You might have to consider this one though before you are embalmed.
Drive Smart...or else you'll be coming in for a quick visit. (See above for more details.)

Of course I'm animal friendly! Pets are people too!!

Hunters are welcome too! (Hello! Am sending a big shout out to duck in his new habitat!


(*Note: some Virginia plates must use fewer characters than others. The shortened version is already taken too. Sorry!)

Isn't it great to be "living" in the land of the free, and the home of the embalmed?

Yesterday's Venerate

Dictionary.com's word of the day for yesterday was venerate.

venerate \VEN-uh-rayt\, transitive verb:
To treat someone or something with deep respect, reverence or deference; to revere.

Welcome to Cemetery Road - a place where bubbles are venerated.

Graveyard Bubble Bursts in China...and on Cemetery Road

Have you ever thought about the many layers to how we all seem to live in our own little bubble worlds? Hmmm....

Below is a link to an interesting article about China's Graveyard Bubble by James Reynold, BBC News. Seems pine boxes are the least of China's issues as they have more pressing issues with bubble bursting.

China's Graveyard Bubble Bursts

Is it just me, or are there more people worried about what's going to happen to them when they're dead vs. what's going to happen to them today when they're living?

Here's a newflash: when you're dead, do you really think you'll be around to care?

It's not that I'm trying to be disrespectful, but is it possible that the living are more worried about these issues than the dead?

Recently, a woman I know admitted she told a friend of hers that she couldn't possibly purchase a particular plot in a local graveyard, because her deceased husband would then be lying alongside a publicly known child molester! Now this particular Christian woman also realized that the comment was completely unnecessary on her part, yet she still struggled with the idea of having someone she loved residing next to a known criminal for the rest of eternity.

Oddly enough, this sort of reminded me about going to church...is it really all that important who you are sitting next to in the front pew? The back pew? In front of your television at home?

"All around heaven's gates, the monkeys chased the weasels...the monkeys said get out of our graves! POP! Goes the bubbles!"

Well, since I obviously won't be buried in China anytime soon, let me say once again that I want to be cremated - cheaper route to go and takes up less space. Psst...hey China, may want to consider that. If not, it probably won't be long until someone figures out how to eBay Chinese plots. Sarcastic and a bit distasteful, yeah sure, but is really all that far-fetched? Internet auctions have expanded to include real estate so tell me how cemetery plots are really so far away from that? Ok, now just stop it. There goes at least a half dozen busy real estate agents rushing off to figure out if that really is something legal to sell on eBay. You know who you are. You house that small inner hope that maybe just maybe that get rich quick scheme won't bust your bubble!

I can almost hear George Strait singing:

"I've got some, ocean front plot-perty in Arizona.
Bid on your headstone so you can eBay the sea.
I've got some, ocean front plot-perty in Arizona.
If you'll buy that I'll throw in Paypal fees for free."

Then George Strait asks, hey what happened to the Golden Gates? Sorry George, guess they moved to China and we didn't get the email. Seems that Spam blocker picked a lousy time to actually start doing something, didn't it?

Here is another bubble to check out:

Another blog on Blogger.com: The Bubble Death

I hope you've enjoyed today's bubbles on Cemetery Road, for here a bubble is more than what meets the eye! I'm waving my magic bubble wand good-night to you too!

The Pine Box Arrives

As you might recall, last Thursday I was lamenting about what kind of Pine Box I would have preferred five years ago in comparison to today. As the perfect synchronicity of the universe has reminded me once again, there are no coincidences along Cemetery Road.

I received a phone call on Sunday from an ecstatic relative who asked if it would be okay to deliver a gift to my house.

The Pine Box arrived late Sunday night.

For awhile, I wasn't sure exactly where to put it and what to do with it. Yet, it seems sometimes someone else can find just the perfect home and the perfect use for such a Pine Box.

Gee. What a difference five years makes, doesn't it?

The Pine Box is coming!!!!

How's that for a coincidence...I received a phone call today and the pine box is officially on its way here!! I'm so excited!! It should arrive tomorrow...don't worry, I'll keep you posted as more details are yet to come! (*Note: If you're lost, reread Thursday's post.)

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead

The Wizard of Oz was to start at 7:30pm. At 7pm my toddler was ready for bed and my infant , having finished nursing, was happily off to dreamland somewhere over the good-night moon rainbow. Then, at 7:03pm the baby cried. I picked him up to quickly console him back to sleep. After gently assisting in getting out the last great burp of the evening, I was instantly rewarded with a gush of leftovers that sloshed all the way down to my ruby red slippers. Yeah, haven't been in Kansas for quite some time now.

Like a cyclone, I furiously changed clothes and hopped into the car. At 7:12pm there were 15 looming miles of yellow brick road ahead of me. I could still make it, barely.

I arrived at the front doors at exactly 7:31pm. The play had already started. The munchkin ushers had barricaded the doors with two metal folding chairs, so it was evident that I would not be visiting Oz tonight. If I only had a brain perhaps I would have made it on time. I cowardly walked down the front steps to wait for intermission as I refused to walk in late and make a scene. I glanced down at the small red gift bag in my hand and sighed as even the Tin Man probably would have been embarrassed by the feminine Valentine's heart covered ensemble. Inside the pink and red tissue paper was a shocking yellow t-shirt that read, "I woke up on the Yellow Brick Road." I thought my fourth-grade nephew would get a kick out of the shirt, even though I was currently missing his performance as a flying monkey. I momentarily contemplated explaining to him that on the way to his play a house fell on me, but I didn't think he'd buy that anymore than my suggesting that I had a matching t-shirt that read, "I got run over on the Yellow Brick Road." Even if I couldn't see him, I was still there to support him.

While I sat clicking my heels together on the concrete auditorium steps, my thoughts wandered to far-away lands and magical places. A dear friend once tried to convince me that there was magic in a place and if only I could feel the magic than I would be happy there. At the time, I had been a lot like Dorothy - naive and lost, yet adventurous and trying to make the best out of the situation. Now, I think my friend was wrong. For me, the magic was never to be found in the place, because it lies within the people I meet along the journey. Each time someone has touched and enriched my life, I know that is magic. Even though there have been times when whether I've wanted to or not, I have decided to leave dreams somewhere over the rainbow, I have never regretted a chance to wake up on the yellow brick road. I hope that some day my nephew and my own boys will understand and appreciate my choice that there truly is no place like home.

Cockroach Reproach

Who would have thought that a small repulsive insect is one of the hardiest bugs on the planet? It is certainly nice to know that if we ever destroy ourselves in a nuclear war that these little critters might very well take over the planet. If only I could go a month without food than perhaps I too might be able to get rid of the extra 10 lbs. of baby weight, lol! Oh well, guess I'm just nowhere near as adaptable as a cockroach, yet I do maintain a very fair symbiotic relationship with these overly-friendly Cemetery Road guests. I run a very tight ship and keep my roach motel open daily as it is a prominent all-inclusive resort vacation for these known celebrities only. Any one that wanders in is sure to have an unforgettable visit and there is always an open invitation to spread the news to all friends and acquaintances. Shh...the secret is in the special mints left on the pillows. A few words of caution: curious guests who trespass outside the hotel perimeter do so "solely" at their own risk. The "sole" of my shoe would love to introduce itself!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cockroach

Ladybug Whirly-gig

White Petunias

White Petunias

When my mother's next door neighbor moved into the nursing home she had to give away all her beautiful house plants. My mother, possessing the blackest thumb a person has ever seen, bestowed upon me the grand responsibility of saving the suffering peace lily that she inherited. I didn't have the heart to say that the plant was a lost cause.

With care, I faithfully watered the lily, talked to it hopefully, and gingerly pruned one decaying brown leaf after another. Despite my positive reinforcement conversations, it wasn't long before the only thing listening to my pleas of encouragement were a handful of withered roots in a barren looking pot. I watched the empty pot look lonelier and lonelier.

Sadly, the neighbor in the nursing home passed away. Afterwards, the empty pot sat. I didn't know what to do with the pot when she died, though I somehow couldn't bring myself to just throw it away. Somewhere, buried underneath the soil, I thought there was hidden potential. Perhaps it really was lonely. I found a ladybug whirly-gig and added its cheerful smiling face to the barren pot. The wind blew and the smiling ladybug twirled. Except for a few small rain showers, I completely forgot about watering the plant.

Today, the ladybug finally has some company. No, the white peace lily didn't miraculously return as I knew it wasn't going to. However, in its place a beautiful wild white petunia plant has somehow sprouted all on its own. This is the only white petunia in my yard and I have no idea where it came from except perhaps on an angel's wing.

The meaning of the peace lily is generally thought to represent peace, yet our views regarding peace are very individual in nature. The petunia, though, is sometimes thought to represent a contradicting parallel of resentment, anger, yet soothing presence. On some levels, the white petunia is just that. On a small front porch stoop directly across the street from the cemetery, a small white petunia plant flourishes - angry that it's on that damn stoop, yet perfectly soothed to be exactly where it is in its small place in this great world.

The whirly-gig ladybug spins its wheels carelessly and smiles knowingly.

Better Off in a Pine Box

Another day and the cemetery is still peaceful and calm. Doug Stone's lyrics, "I'd be better off in a pine box.." seem to float carelessly through the air. If you had asked me five years ago, my pine box would have had to have come complete with coordinating socks, shoes, hair accessories, and jewelry. The outside of the box would also had to have been engraved or embossed with meticulous and intricate details which of course would coordinate with my interior outfit! Now, with an infant and a toddler running around, I think I'd be content just to lie somewhere, anywhere, for a few moments of peaceful and quiet rest. If I hadn't had time to swipe a comb through my hair and if I smelled like baby spit-up, oh well. I hear the bugs don't care anyway.

Cemetery Road

Hello and welcome! I hope you will enjoy my little area of cyberspace that I use simply, "to write stuff." Nothing mind-blogglying and probably nothing that will ever change the world in some grand illustrious fashion, yet small windows into my world of the ever common everyday dramas that plague the souls of each one of us...family, friends, children, pets, work, problems, and of course the DRAMA, DRAMA, DRAMA, which each of those items brings with it!

Today's topic: Cemetery Road

From my small front porch stoop I watch the days pass. A friend of mine visits and jokes, "Folks are dying to get in there" as she points to the cemetery across the street. Somehow, the joke never seems to get old and we laugh every time. Yet, when the machine digs each grave, and I watch the funeral processions come and go, followed by the men who shovel the lumps of red clay back into the ground, it doesn't seem quite so humorous. Mourners visit the graves of loved ones occasionally, yet the majority of the time the road is peaceful. On abundantly windy days, my quiet next-door neighbors excitedly come out to greet me in their own quirky way...plastic worn bouquets lie scattered across my lawn and I think it is their way of saying hello while quietly shouting, "bring me flowers when I'm alive as they're not worth a damn when I'm dead and gone!" Another year and I have still not received any live flowers. If only the dead knew how much I enjoy the pitiful plastic ones.