Monday, October 30, 2006

Compost me

Been an action packed weekend.

Found out on Friday that my mom's mom died at the natural age of 88 at her old folk's home in Petaluma. Funeral tomorrow, that's right, on Halloween. As good a day as any I suppose. Lovely lady that grandmother.

We're going to plant her in the ground, no embalming, up in Santa Rosa. Not a bad cemetary, and I'm a cemetary afficianado. What to do with all our corpses, such emotion gets tied to it, for the deceased and the loved ones often times. For the record, I'd like to be wrapped whole in a sail and slid off a plank to go sleep in Davey Jones' locker, but I've heard that could be pricey or difficult, so if I don't figure it out by the time I kick then, realizing people will do whatever the hell they want to after I die, I kindly but strongly suggest composting.

The Rebirth Brass Band at the Independent Friday night ripped like holy hell. Loved it; without a doubt one of the best shows of the year . Would see them again in a heartbeat. They did the best cover of that "One love, one heart, let's get together and feel alright" song I'd ever heard. A show like that could easily change the cadence of my walk forever, like a book that you can't think the same after reading, or electro-shock therapy, the beat goes on, second line style, no end to this groove in sight, a fantastic and delicious transformation.

Pumpkin carving party at our house for the kids Saturday. Great row of jack-o-lanterns sitting on the deck rail. Pumpkin curry, pumpkin corn bread, pumpkin cookies, roast pumpkin seeds, and pumpkin wine. Just kidding about the wine, that'd be freaky though, and probably pretty nasty tasting, whatever gets you through the night kinda booze.

Took the boy to his fifth week in a row of Sunday School yesterday, where he got to carve a pumpkin. He passed out on the way home, so I had myself a deeply satisfying swim in Strawberry Canyon, but when he woke up I took him for his first dusk to night hike in the hills above our house, very fun. Kids just love flashlights, moons through trees, deer bounding by noisily, dried wild artichoke flowers glowing in the moonlight, and tunnels of trees. It's the bleeding woods at night in late October - who wouldn't love it once they got over the scary movie brainwashing, and all the unidentfiable sounds? Hmmm, better check myself and the boy for ticks, come to think of it.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Sad to hear about Bess' passing, but she is definitely in a better, more peaceful place. You should post her poem here- I think it says it all.
It was sweet, though, that even in her Alzheimer's dementia decline, she remembered you. You and Penny were the last relatives she had in her mind.
If you really want to be composted in Sweden, then you should definitely put that in your will. Otherwise, we will just do whatever we can afford at the time. I didn't know that it is possible to bury people sans embalming in the United States modernly. I thought it was illegal. I am learning new things every day.
Let's read her poem at the funeral tomorrow.

Fourth Musketeer said...

i'm pretty sure that this blog counts as a will. would someone please notarize this? just bungee cord me in an area rug with some nice rocks, sail me a hundred miles off coast and kerplunk me in, how much could it possibly cost? money is no object. if that doesn't work then compost me, it'll be legal here by then.

Anonymous said...

What if I just drag you out to the sideyard and let Phantasma do her good work? That's kind of like composting- composting into poop that is. But we would be putting you [your remains] to use...then we could use the poop to kill/nutrify some burdock or thistle weeds. Sounds like a plan.
Oh- I almost forgot to ask, but what about the vultures, racoons, feral cats and other vermin? Maybe I'll drag you out a ways into the canyon, so we don't get inundated with flies and furry pests. You wouldn't mind that would you?
FYI your blog is not a will by any stretch. You can't notarize or witness it online. If you want to do a handwritten will, I can help you with that.

Fourth Musketeer said...

My grandmother was not embalmed and did have a viewing. It just requires an "immediate" burial, which in our case was 4 days later. We did not read the poem aloud at the service. The mortuary guy had a little agenda, and that was fine with me. I did print out some pics and a scan of her hand written version of the poem and handed them out, was all good, nice day.

And Wifey! As callous as I am, I find your suggestion of feeding me to my own dog insulting. It's OK to sell me to a dogfood company though, then I'll shine through the eyes and coats of many dogs, bow wow wow, yippy yo, yippy yay. Of course, I don't know why I mention this to anyone, since I'm betting on outliving the entire human race.

Anonymous said...

Deeply sorry if my callousness offended thee... you know you secretly wish to become phantasma phood. (I am pretty sure this is one of those comments that only I am laughing about...)
No, I won't feed you to the dog. She'd only end up like my poor old sausage dog, Trissy, and that BIG pot of kithcen-sink soup that she defended until she couldn't stand the sight of it anymore even though no one wanted any in the first place. You know what I'm talkin' about.