A Second Pair of Eyes

Before we get started on the main point of this post, I just want to say that yesterday Mrs. Wigglebottom was so stiff in her back hip that she could barely get down the steps to go to the bathroom. One peanutbutter and baby aspirin cocktail later and this morning she was running through the yard chasing the cat, who was as gobsmacked as I was that the dog was, you know, running. There may be nothing funnier than the look on a cat’s face when something it finds utterly bizarre is happening. The orange cat literally seemed to be saying “What the fuck?” as the dog ran it over.

Oh, which reminds me. Now the dog has decided she doesn’t like cheese. Won’t take a baby aspirin in it. That made me want to make a face like the orange cat and say “What the fuck?”

Anyway, ever since I was out to the Carney/Demonbreun cemetery last week, I have been wondering about the weird not-quite-ditch looking thing in it. But I couldn’t figure out what it was. Well, it just took S. maybe five seconds to figure out a better angle to stand at and then, duh, it was so obvious it was the old cemetery wall and the lane that used to run along it that I was almost embarrassed.

But it reminded me of how nice it is to have a second pair of eyes on things. I mean, I am a cemetery junkie and I have had kind friends indulge me and come with me and pretend to be interested. But S. is the first person I’ve known who is also a cemetery junkie. And man, is it great to have someone you can say “Okay, look at this–natural or man made?” and have her seriously consider it.

I know it’s just the season. It makes me all grateful. But really, I have been extraordinarily lucky to meet amazing people who really make my life better.

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