I Speak of Many Things

First of all I have to tell you that this really made my day. You really need to go over to The Old Grey Poet's page and watch his YouTube video - The Mean Kitty Song. Even if you're not a cat lover I'm sure you'll appreciate how true this song is.

Second - okay - I deserve 40 lashes with a chunk of wet lutefisk. I haven't written in my blog since last Wednesday. I can't decide whether I've been that busy or I just haven't had anything to write about. You pick - one excuse is as good as another to me, ya know.

Ole and I have been quite busy though. He and I were asked to head up the committee to do all the landscaping around a columbarium that our church has installed in the cemetery. It's been a lot of work, but also a lot of fun, and we've been fortunate in the fact that we've had the cooperation of the other members of the committee. Sometimes that doesn't happen, you know. People have a tendency to want their own ideas used and it may not be to the liking of the majority. But then maybe it's because in a lot of things I haven't given them a choice, I've just TOLD them what needed to be done and they did it. Then maybe it has to do with the fact that I'm the only female on the committee - forty years of marriage to Ole has taught me a thing or two about manipulating and conniving (snicker.)

Well, anyway, for those of you that may not know, a columbarium is a large stone (in our case Minnesota granite) facility that stores the urns that ashes are put in when you are cremated. The pastor wants the columbarium landscaping to be completed by September 23rd so that it can be dedicated. I'm sure we can pull it off by that time - after all I've got five men under my control to do all the hard labor and all I have to do is stand around and point my finger at what goes where. Sound like a plan to you?

So have you ever thought about what you want done with your remains? Ole and I have talked about that issue a number of times over the last years, and more so now that we're working on this project. Ole is an organ donner (is that spelled right?) and has always stated that he wants to be cremated. I guess we'll have to see how many organs he donates first - his urn might end up on the small side because he's a pretty healthy Finlander. He's also stated that he wants someone to ride his Harley down the highway and let his ashes blow out going down the road. He doesn't have any hair to let the wind blow through now when he's riding his bike, so he says at least he wants the wind to blow through his ashes.

Me? I think I want to be cremated too. And I don't think I want an open casket at my funeral. The thought of all those people parading by saying, "Oh, doesn't she look terrible," would make me turn over in my casket. That ought to make them sit up and take notice, huh? At that point I'm dead, People - you expect me to look beautiful or something? You know how those little old ladies are that walk by and criticize the undertaker's work. Yeah - go blow it out somebody else's horn, why don't you. I swear a lot of those little old ladies come for the funeral lunch, not because they knew the person very well.

And speaking of a funeral lunch - around here there are certain staples of that lunch. There's always hot dish (never casseroles) of one kind or another. Hamburger hot dish and tuna hot dish are regulars, and then there's the dead spread sandwiches. You know the kind - ground spam mixed with pickles and mayonnaise spread on a half a bun. Or cheese whiz with a slice of green olive in the center. And certainly please don't forget the red jello with bananas. It wouldn't be a funeral lunch without that.

Now back to the columbarium. As Ole and I were working over at the cemetery last week, I took the occasion to walk through the cemetery and look at all the head stones. I've been fascinated with old cemeteries for a long time. I think that started when I got into genealogy - those old tombstones can tell some stories and contain a lot of information.

Our cemetery (Lutheran) was started in 1901 and the first burial took place then. It was a little 5-month old baby named Leonard Schroeder. Quite close to this grave, which is under a huge pine tree, are five more white marble stones, all dated between 1904 and 1910. They belong to five children of varying ages all from the same family. Can you imagine losing five children within six years? Actually there are quite a few children under the age of 10 and numerous infants buried in this cemetery. I guess that was the norm back in those days. And then there was the era when the Spanish flu moved through. It was very evident in the cemetery that there were very few families that were untouched by that. That took place as World War I was winding down about 1918-1919. My mother had an older brother who succumbed to the Spanish Flu but managed to overcome it somehow. Must have been that good strong Swedish stock.

Then down the road a mile and a half is Elmwood Cemetery started in 1881. A man named Heinrich Krabbenhoft (32), was one of the first settlers in this area. When he died in the winter of 1881 there was no cemetery in the area. So a straw stack on his farm was burned to thaw out the ground and he was buried there. His grave stone is currently in the center of Elmwood Cemetery, very old and moss covered and difficult to read.

Elmwood Cemetery installed a columbarium about a year before our cemetery did, but so far nobody occupies any of the cripts. Must be because there's no landscaping around it (snicker). It's just a huge block of red granite standing out in the middle of a grassy area. Ours will be much prettier (neener, neener).