The Crafts of Death

Back before Christmas, I distinctly remember writing about driving to TheCompanyIWorkFor one morning, only to pass by a local funeral home in our town. And right out there in the yard of the funeral home was a big, fat, jolly, smiling, look-at-me-in-all-my-happy-glory inflatable snowman. And I just thought, "Ooooh, that's creepy in so many ways, I don't know where to start."

Friday, as I was going to TheCompanyIWorkFor, to which I take the same route everyday, of course, I passed by that self-same funeral home. What should be out front of it but three tables, manned by an older lady (or would that be womanned by an older lady) - selling homemade crafts.

There were homemade dolls, and pillows with ruffles, and little girls' dresses, and calico aprons and potholders and God only knows what else. All set up on the grounds of the funeral home.

What is with these people? Why don't they just install a couple of gas pumps and maybe set up a stand for novelty t-shirts and license plates? "Free fill-up with every body, and for an additional $14.99 you can get a 'My Loved One Died And All I Got Was This Lousy T-shirt' Shirt!"

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Well, I finally got to see what I wait every four years to get a glimpse of: sweaty Eastern European women athletes who don't shave under their arms. Ahhhhhh, it was worth it!
* I saw trampolining today. Dang, and just when I was going to list "Jumping On The Bed" as one of the 10 Olympic Sports I wanted to see.