Back to Life

So it only seemed appropriate to mark my return to the living with a visit to my favorite cemetery.

Before I was stricken with two months of vomiting, dizziness, constant nausea and the inability to talk about, hear about or witness anything relating to body functions without gagging, I strolled the cemetery everyday, often for over an hour. I watched the tadpoles slowly sprout legs and lose their tails, and I judged how good the walk was by how many turtles I spotted in the pond.

Today was a little warm for my delicate self, but thanks to a rockin' breeze, I had a great walk. The former tadpoles are getting big and green, but I only saw one little lone turtle on the turtle log, stretching his little neck up towards the sun.

The high point of my walk: I love to read first names from the old tombstones. There are those that have gone by the wayside-- the Ediths, the Vernons, the Gertrudes (although the Gertrudes kind of sounds like a cool name for a band)-- the classics-- Elizabeth, Jonathan, Anne-- and the oldies that are now coming back into fashion, like Eva, Ava, and Ella. But today my friends, I found a new favorite. Veranus. I was dying (haha) to photograph the headstone to prove that there was once someone-- presumably a man?-- named Veranus, but in a stunning bout of good taste, I controlled my urges. But seriously... Veranus? I'll have to suggest that as a possible baby name to Scott...it's right up there with Wormus.

The low point: A gaggle of bratty pre-pubescent boys on bikes. Normally it wouldn't bother me but one of them was on some sort of motorized bike and they were purposely riding towards the ducks, yelling obscenities. If I'd had a cane with me, I'd have surely shaken it at them. Instead, I took a deep breath, kept walking, and sent off a quick prayer that we'd have a child with a gentle heart.