Visiting Addison

So if you remember last year, it was utterly pouring when we went to visit Papa and Freddie. This year it wasn't pouring, but it definitely was grey. The rain held off while we wandered around in the cemetery...


I think the saddest thing was the little toys that my cousins had left on Papa's grave were gone. I know little plastic dogs clog up lawnmowers, so someone probably thought it was time for them to go. It's just sad, because it showed that somebody besides Mum and me came up to visit. A stranger wandering by wouldn't know that Papa liked cocker spaniels or that he had grandchildren who gave him their McDonald's toys-- the toys gave a sense of individuality and character to the grave. Now they're gone.


I should get Papa a giant wooden raccoon, like this guy has. Because no grave is complete without a giant wooden raccoon.


Then we went up the hill to visit the babies.


I wish I knew more about them, like what they died from.


Mum and I looked everywhere, but we couldn't find their parents. I think we do this every year, we just forget that we do it. Do you think the babies feel lonely without their parents around?


At least their big brother is beside them.

And up the hill...

... we found the twins Henry and Henrietta and their big brother Hamilton. Man, how come people don't name their kids names like this any more?!?!





And of course, no trip to visit Papa would be complete without visiting the llamas.

Memorial Day Part II

So Mum was too busy during the actual Memorial Day to do our Memorial Day shindig up at Addison, so we went the following week. Of course it rained the entire time, so I didn't get as many pictures as I would have liked. We went to Helen's first, trying to wait out the rain. Mmmm, pies.

Then we headed out to Addison.

Here is Freddie and Papa. We just ran out of the truck, plopped down the geraniums and dove back in the truck again. So much for a long, dignified remembrance vigil.



Here are the babies, which are in the glass case. This is the only marble statue in the cemetery, and once upon a time somebody decided to enclose them in glass to protect them from the snows and the salty wind. Just about everybody I know who has been to this cemetery talks about them and wonders about them. Mum remembers Mie-Mie talking about them when Mum was small, so even back then they were quite the conversation piece.



I've always found the babies' brother interesting too. His stone is hard to read, and is now in several pieces, but it reads, "Reuben Wass, Son of Capt... & E.... Wass died on board the brig C.C... nite May 18th, 1842, AE 18 ys 11 mos. His death was caused by a fall from the fore-top-gallant-yard on the night of the 16th." If you look closely there is a carving of the brig on the top of his stone.

When you leave the cemetery road, there is this sign that always cracks me up.


We've never actually seen the blind man walking, we're just grateful there's a sign to warn us.

Afterwards we went to visit the llamas. This is also a part of our family tradition, which makes people smile and nod and back away slowly.

Llamas in the rain make me giggle.
Up at the farmhouse this poor demented rooster kept announcing that it was dawn, and the llamas kept looking up at it as if it were some sort of Llama Announcer. They all stared at it for quite some time. It was weird.


Llamas are such strange animals, especially in the rain. I kept singing this under my breath and Mum thought I was just a tad bit weird:



Runs in the family, I guess.

More pictures to come!