The Cemetery and Storm Dave

I spent yesterday morning doing stuff around the house, and by early afternoon I was ready to get out and about. I decided to walk up to the cemetery, where I hadn't been in a while. Going there always makes me think of Olga but that isn't a bad thing. I made some coffee in my travel mug and brought it with me.

I found this little rocking horse outside the church on the corner. I texted Dave a photo. "No," he wrote back. (Although I do love my rocking unicorn, I actually wouldn't have taken this one -- not only because I don't need it, but also because it's upholstered. I don't mind picking up hard furniture but upholstery gives me the willies. It was gone when I walked past again a little later.)

The wood anemones are just starting to bloom. They seem a bit behind this year. I'm pretty sure they typically have more blossoms by this time in April.

It felt good to walk the paths that I used to take at least once a week with Olga. I'm sure I've photographed this familiar monument before -- it's lying flat on the ground, having long ago fallen over.

This crabapple tree is in fine form. Technically it's an Asiatic apple (Malus spectabilis), according to my plant identifier. I would have just said crabapple, but whatever.

I've always found this an interesting (and sad) headstone. My first thought, upon reading it, was that Stebbing must have been much older than his wife Ada, who lived for almost forty years after the death of her husband. But in fact he was only eight years older. She just lived an incredibly long time.

Their son, Jackie, is memorialized on this page at the web site of the military cemetery in Belgium where he is buried. There's even a picture of him. He died of wounds "received before Comines," which probably means the offensive to liberate Comines from the Germans in late September 1918. Such an incredible tragedy, all those boys on both sides, killing each other in drives to recapture or defend a couple of miles of territory. It must have been devastating for Jackie's parents -- a story repeated hundreds of thousands of times across England in those years.

Last night we had some really intense winds and spattery rain, I assume related to Storm Dave (a name which, of course, greatly amuses my Dave). I got up in the middle of the night and saw the avocado on its side on the patio, but I waited until this morning to lift it back into place. It had minimal damage -- a clump of leaves broke off but otherwise it seems fine.

I guess this is a sign that it has once again outgrown its pot, which seemed huge when I repotted it a couple of years ago. I'm not sure where to go from here. Maybe we should just put it in the ground. The only reason to keep it in a pot was to be able to move it inside if necessary, but it's too big for that now anyway.