Today was the first day in a long time that it hasn’t rained at some point *AND* I was home to mow the lawn. Let me start by saying, I hate yard work. If it were up to me, we’d pave the front and back yard and just set out potted plants. That way the wife gets to pretend she’s a gardener and I never have to have another allergy fit. However, after almost three solid weeks of being out of town and rainy days, I was afraid the baby would wander off into the grass and we’d never see her again.

It is Memorial Day weekend here in the US. And like many others, my family not only takes this time to remember the fallen soldiers, but we also take the time to remember our family members who are no longer with us. My grandfather passed away in March. As per his wishes, we buried him in the cemetary of his family, in a small town four hours drive from here. So today, the wife, baby, and I all loaded into a car with no radio and made the road trip to Texas. The monument company still hasn’t erected his tombstone, and my youngest daughter (she’s not yet 2) decided to play with some of the flowers before we left out. So we went to place a torn up bouquet on a patch of dirt. Grandpa would have had a great laugh over this. Whether you believe in a god or not, either way Grandpa’s not in that dirt.

These types of trips always bring up “morbid” subjects. The discussion of disposal of my remains almost always comes up. I have decided that I want to be cremated and have my ashes compressed into a diamond. If I can get my parents, my wife, and my children on board with this idea, before long we would have a pretty decent collection of family jewels.