Old stuff, good stuff and dead stuff

 I went to an antique store with my aunt and uncle, it was quite big and had lots of old stuff (naturally).  and while they had fun buying decor and whatnot, I scoured the place looking for just one thing I would be interested in buying that could also fit back into my already tightly packed carry-on. after walking through the store 2 or three times (and trust me, thats a much bigger feat than it sounds) I found myself empty-handed and bored, so i found an old jar and took a picture that only a few of my close friends will understand the reference to:

After a visit with a few of my other relatives in NC, we picked up some food from a place I truly miss:

You know that graveyard I was talking about? well I finally got bored enough to walk through it. As strange as it may sound, there is something sacred about a graveyard; something that keeps you from running or shouting or doing anything much but stand and walk slowly. I found myself more interested in the design of the headstones and how old some of them were then contemplating the prospect of death. I already know what happens when I die, no need for contemplation. though I decided that I would like to be buried when I finally bite the dust; because if my future generation is anything like me, they will appreciate the design of a unique headstone and a meaningful epitaph. though If I never get around to carving my own stone, I wouldn't want anyone to spend money on my lifeless body, just throw it in the nearest ditch with some purple flowers. 

...On the other hand, I think a viking funeral would be pretty awesome.