My companion took this photo of the moon -- which, mind you, won't even be officially full until Tuesday night -- shining down on this elaborate 19th century grave marker. Is this not spookalicious?
Miss Begotten is one of my pet names for myself, for Southern Gothic reasons best kept to myself. Miss Begotten tries to speak plainly, but sometimes she tends to babble -- parenthetically, of course. It's never my intention to offend (and usually that's true - except on those [maybe not so] rare occasions when I mean it very friggin' much) but it sometimes happens, so if you're unusually easily offended...
Monday, October 10, 2011
Spook Walking
Halloween is coming, of course -- which goes a long way toward explaining why I found myself in an old cemetery Saturday night. Not alone; geez, I'm not crazy. No, it was an organized event in conjunction with the local history museum and there were a number of other people around.
My companion took this photo of the moon -- which, mind you, won't even be officially full until Tuesday night -- shining down on this elaborate 19th century grave marker. Is this not spookalicious?
My companion took this photo of the moon -- which, mind you, won't even be officially full until Tuesday night -- shining down on this elaborate 19th century grave marker. Is this not spookalicious?
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4 comments:
Did you hear anyone whispering your name?
I didn't, Mr. Gee. But I did see a black cat streaking across a grave in the moonlight. Does that mean anything?
That's why they should have fences around cemeteries (because people are obviously dying to get in).
Anyhoo, there really is nothing spooky about black cats and cemeteries. Graves are nature's litterboxes.
That must explain the stampede to get in there, Pugsley. Nyuk-nyuk-nyuk.:-) It would seem to me that as an alpha canine you'd be doing something to stamp out that litter problem.
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