It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring....
It's raining fish right now. I'm really glad I don't have to GO anywhere tonight. This afternoon was difficult enough.
Thank God/dess for J's neighbor, who took in hand the wretched job the funeral home did and helped Susie to look...better. All the funeral home did was foundation; her hair was awful---almost anything would've been an inprovement, but neighbor C did a good job with her eye shadow and some lipstick, and arranged her hair. (It was Susan's own make-up from her purse.)
J stayed out front until C was done; I was in there the whole time, advising how Susan liked her make-up. C did the best she could, but the expression on Susie's face...or lack thereof. It was NOT her.
Honestly, when I die, I'll haunt anyone who instigates such foolishness. I don't want to be a painted waxwork displayed in a big oak box. I want a no-frills cremation and a party for my friends. I want them to sit around and shoot the shit and tell jokes and stories about the good times we had.
Afterward, I trudged over to Publix and the Dollar Tree. Two pots of calla lilies came from Publix; I'm going to repot them into a container that was going to be Susie's Christmas gift, a pot with playing card suites on the sides. The Dollar Tree yielded some spanish moss to garnish the dirt in the pot with, and some playing cards, which I'm debating tucking in with her. I tend toward the Viking method of burying the dead with things they may need in their afterlife, and Susie's grandmoth, mother and sister are all waiting for her, and that's quite a canasta foursome.
I'm short on sleep, thanks to the dogs next door, so I'd better go set some timers just in case....
.
Thank God/dess for J's neighbor, who took in hand the wretched job the funeral home did and helped Susie to look...better. All the funeral home did was foundation; her hair was awful---almost anything would've been an inprovement, but neighbor C did a good job with her eye shadow and some lipstick, and arranged her hair. (It was Susan's own make-up from her purse.)
J stayed out front until C was done; I was in there the whole time, advising how Susan liked her make-up. C did the best she could, but the expression on Susie's face...or lack thereof. It was NOT her.
Honestly, when I die, I'll haunt anyone who instigates such foolishness. I don't want to be a painted waxwork displayed in a big oak box. I want a no-frills cremation and a party for my friends. I want them to sit around and shoot the shit and tell jokes and stories about the good times we had.
Afterward, I trudged over to Publix and the Dollar Tree. Two pots of calla lilies came from Publix; I'm going to repot them into a container that was going to be Susie's Christmas gift, a pot with playing card suites on the sides. The Dollar Tree yielded some spanish moss to garnish the dirt in the pot with, and some playing cards, which I'm debating tucking in with her. I tend toward the Viking method of burying the dead with things they may need in their afterlife, and Susie's grandmoth, mother and sister are all waiting for her, and that's quite a canasta foursome.
I'm short on sleep, thanks to the dogs next door, so I'd better go set some timers just in case....
.