The Wife and I are in full-on panic mode right now. Actually, I'm completely fine. She's in panic mode, so I have to pretend that I'm panicking so she feels better. We're cleaning, we're packing, we're stressing. It's ironic that people clean the hardest before they leave a place. I can't remember when our house has been more organized.
Last night I got together with some old friends to eat, play board games and watch Smallville. Kristie was nice enough to host it, and Garrett and Siobhan brought me a Transformers t-shirt. Yay for good friends We also played a new game by the cranium people which was pretty fun and brought out the old school Balderdash. The funny thing about Balderdash is that you don't ever learn the real meaning of the word... you only remember the fake definitions. Dowitcher... Avuncular... Phillumenist.
I had a meeting with an attorney downtown (I'm helping with a website) before the potluck so I was a little dressed up. And on the way to Kristie's I stopped by to see Dennis' grave. (I'm still have to force myself to type it... I tried, "place", "plot" and some other euphemisms.) After three months the ground is still a little torn up. There is still a patch of dirt, but the grass is starting to grow back. You can see the brackets left from the funeral and the sod still has telltale marks of being recently replaced. [Insert your own analogy here]
There isn't a permanent stone yet, just two yellow, potted chrysanthemums and a small glass marker with a name and dates. It was a little freaky being in the cemetary as the sun was going down. It was starting to rain and nobody else was there except for a whole murder of crows. Anyways I knelt down to wipe accumulated mud off the marker so I could take a picture for an out-of-town friend... and I got pooped on by a bird.
I muttered, "crap" and could almost hear Dennis laughing at me. The beat-down laugh.