I did not. Though the idea of a pub in a cemetery sounded pretty nice. No, it seems the cemetery was on one side of the road the pub on the other; so dead people AND booze (woo hoo!).
Linda brought me in the van and I wheeled across the road and she asked, “Does this look familiar to you?”
No. But my thought was, “Does that matter!” I mean, do I look happy here or not.
This is like catnip for a goth.
Before she could stop me I was doing movie star vamp poses on mausoleums. “Take the picture!” I begged and then explained that often in cemeteries there was a fine line between respect for the dead and ‘camp’ which I frequently crossed.
Is this what people meant when they said I should do something “easy” and “restful?” Because I guess going to a cemetery IS restful…unless you go with me. That is because I am wheeling all over the place doing poses from the Japanese photo machines but in front of graves. Some bikers stopped to watch. Here I am doing the “tragic imitation” of the marble angel which Linda called the “disability angel” because she had a slight amputation issue (missing a hand). I am sure if I was 16 I would be having DEEP and MEANINGFUL thoughts at this point while I contemplated life and how HORRID it might be that I would turn into my mother.
However since I was not 16, which means that while I have finally realized that there are WORSE things in life than ones parents and getting grounded and how they just have NO TASTE (like I do, black with black - what goes better together!). See, I could contemplate the somber aspects of facing my own mortality, only in such a NICE graveyard it just bounced off me like a spitball. Woo Hoo! Look at this marble grave! Let’s go over there and take pictures!
Meanwhile Linda is almost trying to RUIN the mood by….smelling the flowers. Sheesh! We don’t go Victorian Period cemeteries in Victoria to smell Lilac, we go to see our friends, or what is left of them.
Of course, no cemetery would be complete without the crow to perch above the graves. So we had ours. Actually we had to entice him from the newer graves, one of which was slightly sunken (bodies do that), and he was using the grave-cover as a bird bath.
I asked Linda for a picture and the bird started coming toward me so we took a picture of me and the crow (sorry, couldn’t find a raven, though you might spot a squirrel in some pictures).
At this point I decided to see if I could use my powers of animal persuasion to get the crow to come toward me. This was actually quite easy to do, however it would not perch on my arm just sort of stay a few wheelchair lengths away. So I started talking to it, trying to get it to do my “bidding.” After a few “GO! And peck the eyeballs of the enemies to disability rights!” I realized that I might have the POWER to bring animals to me, but after that things sort of fell apart. Too bad.
After that I just started doing strange poses, pretty much whatever came into my head, which was pretty fun except two seniors on scooters stopped to watch me until they decided I was on some sort of mind altering drugs (well mind altered - yes, drugs no!). Here I am happy and exhausted.
But come on, this was one FREAKING beautiful cemetery, even if you aren’t into marble and headstones and all that you have to admit the late spring sun on the leaves made it look almost like fall instead of the first rises of spring? “Loverly!”
I stopped at this 1883 headstone to give Linda some ideas of poses for me when she lays me down (this is where it kind of veers into 'camp'). Well, they would if we hadn’t already sold my body for science (no, that was in the UK, I think I am just being cremated and shot up as a firework). I did my, “Poor crip girl, finally at rest…” pose and she did her, “Are we going to get the beer now?”
Linda wins for now (and beer). I will return with my legions of crow friends to bring crow droppings to the cars of those oppose disability rights. Let us just say that next to squirrels, dead people and marble statues don’t ask a LOT of questions, are easy on the brain and are pretty fun (even if the faces of people passing by say that they aren’t supposed to be!). Sorry! That’s why I like the Victorian Period headstones and crypts; no chance of pissing off a relative coming to visit. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed my visit and the required gothy photos. If you come and see me I can take you to this wonderland, which I still don’t “remember” but hey, with a cemetery like this, I don’t mind rediscovering it all over again.
Happy crows and cool marble!