I've been hard at work entering family burial information at Find A Grave. I'm about half-way done, I would think. Earlier this week as I was working on recording the graves out at the Cedar Creek Cemetery, I was reminded that I needed to get a photo of cousin Beulah Martin's grave. All of us are getting a little stir crazy lately, so I suggested that Mother and the dogs ride along with me today on a good old-fashioned cemetery hop. Or, as my father would call it, visiting the shut-ins.
Going anywhere these days is quite an endeavor. I have to load Mother and her walker or wheelchair. I always take my laptop along, for possible reference and to ensure that I have a copy of my family files off site when I'm not at home. The puppies are still learning how to travel, so they ride along in their travel carriers rather than loose in the car. So both travel carriers had to be loaded. Then there was my purse and my camera. And the bottle of water for Mother and the Diet Coke for me. Then I had to chase Mojo down, because he hates motor noices and he didn't much cotton to the idea of getting in the car.
We finally got off about 10:30. Off we sailed to Cedar Creek. Puppies whining in the backseat. Xana in paroxysms of joy in the front seat. It was a beautiful day for a ride to the country.
The Cedar Creek cemetery is completely fenced with chain link, so I was able to let Xana run around the cemetery while I snapped the necessary pictures. Once business was taken care of, I let the puppies out of their carriers for a little romp. They had a grand time frisking around, peeing on the odd curbstone and chasing each other among the graves.
From the cemetery, we headed back to the highway to find some fast food. There's a new Sonic just past the turn off to Union Chapel. We indulged in hamburgers for us and popcorn chicken for the dogs, then headed home. The whole outing took about 2 hours and when we got home Mother and the 3 dogs conked out for naps. It doesn't take much to tire them out. It was a nice change of routine for all of us.
I always find it restful to visit country cemeteries. In a remote corner of the Upper Cedar Creek cemetery, someone had hung a windchime from the tree above a grave and the breeze provided a tinkling melody while I watched the dogs having their run. A tractor was operating in the pasture next door. When I stopped briefly at the Lower Cedar Creek cemetery, a small group of cows ambled across the road, and I had to step carefully over a cattleguard to get one of the pictures I was after. I would much rather ramble around in the country than hang out in the city any old day.
Even after I got home and discovered that both of the puppies had been sick in their carriers and that Xana had shed copious amounts of white hair in the car and Mother had dropped her french fries and ground them into the carpet, it didn't spoil my sense of calm acquired by a visit to the shut-ins.