I was taking my usual optimistic walk through the graveyard when I stumbled across a really unusual tombstone that genuinely made me smile.
The sunlight has rendered it a bit unreadable, but the inscription reads ‘Hilda Mary, the much beloved wife and chum of William Robert Mitchem’.
In a graveyard full of ‘thy will be done’, ‘gone to rest with Jesus’ and ‘his end was peace’, it’s so heartening to see a genuine expression of love. I really hope that these two chums had the happiest years together. Somehow, I think they did.
Anwen’s adventures in the Prose Edda, part 1:
- please tell me that I’m not the only one who didn’t know that this is where Tolkien got his names for the dwarves
- Loki Loki no Loki stop Loki there are ways to make people laugh that don’t impede your ability to have children (although looking at your nightmare spawn, maybe this way is better)
It’s been uncharacteristically sunny the past few days, so I’ve been walking through the graveyard on my way to and from work. There’s a path that goes right the way through the cemetery, and for the past few months I’ve taken that, but for the past couple of days I’ve been traipsing through the long grass instead. I think that one of the most exhilarating choices you can make, upon seeing a path, is to choose to ignore it completely. That doesn’t only go for graveyards, either.
The cemetery has a policy that they only cut the grass ever so often and they leave it to grow wild and untamed for the rest of the year, so some of the grass goes right up to my knees. In the mornings, it’s still dew-damp and sometimes it seeps right through my shoes. Sometimes I walk through the cemetery gates to find seeds and pollen clinging to my shins. I’ve found butterflies in my hair and petals on my skirt, and it’s all life. It’s life in all its wildness and uncontrolled growth, and it doesn’t pale in the face of the reminders of death in which it blooms.
I’ve always liked how life gives no wide berth to death here; I think that people forget that there’s more to a graveyard than skeletons and old lilies. I think that people forget that a cemetery is more than just a boneyard. Here, there are stories; there is the tombstone that just reads ‘our son, lost at sea’ and there is the headstone with four names and one date. There is the one grave where primroses grow, and there are the unmarked tombs that make themselves known by the mounds in the earth. There are narratives and this gives life where there is none; there are memories in the very atoms that make the place, and this gives it breath. There is my uncle’s grave, a tiny hollow cathedral for a life never lived but long mourned, and there are a thousand more hallowed cradles like it.
There’s a great weeping tree, green all season but with one branch of red leaves that withered long ago and never fell, and I think that this is the cemetery. It’s the dead among the living, and it doesn’t make the living any less alive. It just is. The red leaves are red and the green leaves are green, and this is how they are. The dead are here and the living come and go, and neither belongs more than the other. It’s a place for both, and for that, it’s worth a pair of dew-sodden shoes.
The beauteous Nay tagged me to post 6 photos of myself that I like, so without much further ado, here are 6 photos of myself that I like.
For information, the fourth one was taken as a joke, but I love the composition of it, so let’s ignore my ‘totes not a model’ expression and focus on the ceaseless azure of the yawning Aberystwyth dusk.
I tag anyone who wants to inject a bit of self admiration into their lives.
Do you ever just think about Iphis and Ianthe and get really emotional because I definitely don’t do that ever
This is going to be the most stressful week at work ever and I do not want this to be so
I think that the only thing to be done is eat some noodles and watch a film and pat the cat gently on the head
Also today I heard about the Canongate Myth series and I don’t understand why I’m only hearing about it now oh GOSH there are retellings of Heracles and Odysseus and Iphis and Samson and there is Margaret Atwood and Jeanette Winterson and I DEFINITELY haven’t ordered six of them already because I’m skint as shit and I wouldn’t spend all my money on books, would I
Also today I started reading the Prose Edda because I’ve only ever read shitty simplistic translations before and it’s quite hard going but I am enjoying it (although the prologue in the edition I have is fucking weird)
And now noodles. Or pasta. Or a single egg. I don’t cook often.
OK my webcam is so so quiet but I just remembered ages ago that I told you all I could do a really good impression of an Essex housewife living on the breadline* and a few of you said you wanted to see it and I just??? forgot???
here it is
*basically Pat from Eastenders
LOOK HOW MUCH HAIR I HAVE
LOOK HOW MANY SPOTS I HAVE
I AM PLEASED ABOUT ONLY ONE OF THE ABOVE STATEMENTS
CAN YOU GUESS WHICH ONE IT IS
I just realised that I never showed you Jermaine!!!
I’m not saying that I have the best friends ever, but
I totally do
Yesterday I went to town with my biffle Alex and we watched The Fault In Our Stars and laughed at all the sobbing teenage girls
We also bought loads of cheap DVDs and we played a game where we bought each other two awful films. I bought her Sherlock Bones: Canine Detective and Angels And Demons.
The first person to guess which of these DVDs are the two that Alex bought for me will win nothing. Nothing at all. Perhaps oblivion, which we all fear.
I have to go to Porthcawl today to do work for free which should cost £500 but hey I get a day trip out of it so
I am on the train and I have to get a bus all by myself somewhere I’ve never been and I’m so brave that I’ve treated myself to a pint of tea. A pint. One whole pint. God is great.
Also I went to the same Starbucks where the barista human fell in love with me last week and oops I fell in love with another barista because we joked about old women dying
It’s a love triangle that will be regaled throughout the ages
Please tell me what you are doing today!! I will have a laptop again tonight and so I will reply to all the messages that have been staring lovingly at me from my inbox, like Edward Cullen in Bella’s rocking chair in the dead of night in a locked house.