My Photo

Irony Alert!: This blog may be a tad contrary.

« teenage Mormon vampires | Main | a little conversation »

January 02, 2010



My mother's at Ryde too and I've only visited there about twice in the decades since her death, which is maybe why the thought of where I might get to be buried holds declining interest for me, even as I get closer to the event (simply by getting older).

Enjoyed this post!


what is it with men and their knees? I know. It's because we're so kneedy.

Making the progkneesis is easy, but when we get operations on our knees, it's getting pretty hard to find a good akneesthaestist.

linda a

I envisage a funeral, a wake, and then the family all gathered round my wheelie bin at 7 one morning, waving champagne glasses, dressed in black, as the puzzled garbo totes me off in the red topped one for the ultimate in recycling.


Beautifully written El. Tim you're a knut.

Lucy Sussex

My mother's ashes are at Holy Trinity Kew, where she designed a rather fine stained glass window. My father's, scattered on a rosebush at Lilydale, as suits a gardener. It's only carbon....Lucy Sussex


Thanks, guys. The instructions are all in my will, held by the NT Public Trustee, tho probably not in the detail I would like. (I only wrote a will because my mother was convinced I'd get killed in America.)

It's only carbon...well, a book is only paper...


Fabulous post. Your mum is a very interesting woman - she's a big mind in a little space. Wonder what her life would have been like if born in a different time and place. She'd never be ordinary.

As for the earthly remains, for me, that's a big pffft whatever!


I always thought my mother would have been Germaine Greer if she'd been born ten years later (hope she's not reading this!) They even look alike.

The comments to this entry are closed.