An estate for the dead

Des O’Connor died today. He was 88 and recovering from a fall. Ray Clements (England goalkeeper) also died. He was 72. Neither died from Covid-19, so I’m surprised they made the news. Given the UK Lockdown, I can only assume there’ll be only a few at the funerals. Unless they were Tories, I guess.

Which reminds me. With Dominic Cummings leaving his job in Downing Street, will he no longer be able to do whatever he wants regardless of the rules? For instance, will he have to go to an optician like the rest of us?

Being a Sunday, following Mirinda’s Skype session, we headed out to Notholmen island café. As we crossed the bridge, I was a bit concerned for whoever was adrift without a paddle.

Though, fortunately, the water is neither a creek nor outfall of any kind so using one’s hands would be just fine.

While the café wasn’t as crowded as last week, we were earlier. This proved to be the case when we returned for brunch later and the place was swarming again.

Our initial visit was for a coffee (generously given to us for free by our friendly waitress) before Mirinda and the girls headed off for a walk around the royal park while I sat and read more of Joan’s biography.

I might just add that Mark Twain’s bio of Joan of Arc is seriously weird, particularly given his distaste for organised religion. Mind you, while he seems to be madly in love with Joan, he isn’t that keen on the bishops and priests. His Joan, by the way, is stunning beautiful and extremely intelligent. Nothing like the real Joan, at all.

Upon her return, Mirinda told me about the new graveyard the other side of the church. It is all very new with only a few occupants so far. With tarmac paths leading between the plots and small areas for plant care, the whole thing looked a bit like a new estate before the houses are built.

Above is the occupied section. Most fascinating is the plant care station. On the spikes are pointy pots for the flowers, the bright red things are digging tools, the caged area is for dead plants and, of course, there’s a watering can hanging from what Mirinda thought were dog hitching hooks.

As it turned out, dogs were not supposed to be anywhere near the dead. A woman with a walking stick, politely tapped a sign at some distance from Mirinda who once she reached it, realised it said that dogs were not permitted. Mirinda said there was no sign where she had entered. I said I’d not want to be buried in a graveyard which the girls couldn’t visit.

Most notable in the park today, were the spindly, leafless trees. They are now completely naked. The branches look skeletal, ready for the Estate of the Dead.

Back at the café, we had a lovely brunch before heading back home, via Trollbäcken Ica for our weekly shop.

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