Ho-hum

The last few days have been blah.  Where did you go sunshine, my love?  Outside is a dreary,weary reminder of what we left behind.  Rain, rain, rain.  Thankfully, the wind has not whipped up and storms have stayed away.

After attending Sunday services, we hurried home so I could clean everything.  Mother in law and her husband arrived with homemade spaghetti, and garlic bread carried in a laundry basket.  I chopped up a head of lettuce, and set forth a rainbow of salad dressings to choose from.  Nothing fancy, just some bleu cheese, italian, and balsamic with olive oil.  Chatter bounced around the table as we ate our fill of carbohydrate rich fare.

Jon’s mom and I agreed that a meal is never complete without a little somethin’ sweet.  I grabbed the keys and the brooding 16 year old, we headed out the door to track said sweet thang down.  I thought that cheesecake would go quite well with Italian type food.  Bummer, they were all frozen.  I really did not want to bake either.  Prompted by my inner lazy gal, I headed over to the meager bakery section at Foodland.  Two selections looked promising.  Boston Cream, and  Sock It To Me cake.  Perfect.

I grabbed some cotton balls, heavy cream, and castor oil.  (unrelated items-not for dessert use)  Jacob spent about twelve dollars of his birthday money on Mike N Ike’s.

Both coming and going to the store, we ended up smack in the middle of funeral processions. In this part of the south ( i don’t know what happens in the other parts) you STOP for a funeral procession.  Pull over and stop.  And you turn your lights on.  The humble line of cars is led by a squad car, lights flashing.  Do not DARE try to keep going as the hearse and all the family members go by.  You will be followed and given a little bit of southern love. (read-chewed out).

Every time this goes on I have the same conversation with Jacob.

“I hate this!!!”

“Why?”

“It’s stupid, why do we have to stop because of a funeral??”

“Jacob, it’s a sign of respect.”

“They’re dead, they don’t care.”

“Well, the grieving family does.  Besides, it’s the last ride you get, might as well make it a good one.”

“Nobody does this anywhere else.”

“Maybe they should.”

“I still think its dumb.  When I’m driving there is no way I am going to stop”

“That’s because you are young and young people are impatient and selfish.”

After the cars began to move again, we turned onto our street and quietly ate Mike N Ike’s.

“I like the green and yellow ones that taste like the smell of Pledge.”

“You’re weird, Mom”

Advertisements

3 responses

  1. Well tell Jacob we still stop for a funeral procession here too. Yes, it’s a sign of respect. Also sometimes the car following may not know where they are headed. I went to more funerals in the year I worked at hospice than my entire life. All types of people from all walks of life. Every single patient I had. I went. (barring unforeseen emergency.) going to that many funerals, and watching that many people die for that matter, really changes the way you think about funerals. And death.

    Sorry. Grim. But true.

  2. Shuuuuut. uuuuup. Another Alabamian? Well… I don’t live there anymore, but we did for many, many years. And, now I have to know… Auburn? Bama? or don’t care? If you say Auburn, we can’t be friends. LOL. We’re HUGE Bama fans. Well, my husband is anyway. I just go along with it because it’s grounds for divorce if I don’t. haha. 😉

    It took me a while to get used to the funeral procession thing, but I do think it’s nice. Here (in FL) we do the same thing. They’re not so much in to the stopping if you can’t stop, but we always turn on the lights.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s