Well that was a weekend for me and the Murp.

My sister wanted to spend the weekend doing fun things instead of thinking about how it’s been a year.  I drove up Friday after work and started the weekend.   Saturday morning we grabbed her grandkids and headed up to Mt. Shasta to go hiking.  We saw 4 waterfalls and did 7 miles worth of hiking.   Murphy was in all his glory.  He hates car rides but LOVES the destination.  The trail we picked was pretty popular because it takes you to some amazing falls so I heard, “Omg, SO cute!” over and over.  He’s not your likely trail dog, he’s more of lay on the back of my couch and have in-depth conversations about the Roman Empire dog.  He loved it  and it made me feel good about my decision to bring him and the plans I have for taking him to some of my favorite local trails.  He’s a dick to other dogs at first, but after about 3 miles whenever there was another dog, he just kinda did a low key growl and kept walking.  I am hoping that with some training he can stop being a douche.

On Sunday we made our way to the cemetery and cleaned it up and made it pretty.  We came up with some ideas for how we want it to look. I don’t’ feel my mom there.  I’m glad we buried (almost all) of her ashes there and that is her final resting spot by her parents and her friends, but she’s not there.  Being there reminded me of the times growing up as a kid and my mom and aunt would go out there and clean up grandpa and grandma’s grave.  They spent a ton of time out there. It’s weird to think that as a kid I was allowed to make a cemetery my playground.  They had rules, “no taking anything from someone’s grave.  If something is knocked over you respectfully put it right. No walking over the graves.”  They told my cousin and I stories about hauntings if we didn’t follow the rules.  The whole time we were out there we would end up cleaning up other people’s graves and trying to find the oldest date or the grave of the young friend of my brother who died on his motorcycle.  I was never scared out there because we spent so many days and hours out there.  My sister once mentioned someone’s name who was buried out there and like a cruise director I pointed her to the back left side behind the giant manzanita bush.
It’s not until you’re older that you realize how weird your childhood was, right?

It’s 7:40 am and I dedicated an hour of writing a day, to either here or to the book.  It’s always right at the 7:40 mark that I look up out the window and stare out and admire how much I enjoy this part of the morning and now as the season changes that it will be even more beautiful outside. Outside my window I see the redwoods all lined up and it makes me crave to be on the coast in a cabin.  The smell of the earth and the bite of that misty cold.   Me, Murphy, my books and camera and a giant cardigan.  That’s the ending I want from this life.