Primarily because Dery Funeral Home returned somebody else's ashes to us, ashes belonging to somebody named Peter, a mentally disturbed Vietnam vet who jumped off a building in downtown Pittsfield (next door to where my friend Louise was getting her hair cut, as it happened). So for two weeks seems I've been throwing a kiss to Peter every time I passed the brown plastic container, not to mention scattering some of him next to Odd and the dead collies under the rhododendrons and all that rigamarole on the kitchen counter, spooning off some of him for Peg's fan in Seattle (and mailing it), and who I've now had to email to say please throw Peter out unless you and Donna want to be buried with him instead of Peg.
A panicky few hours it was indeed, after Bonnie opened the cremation certificate taped to the box in order to make copies for the cemetery in Minnesota and the airline--in the unlikely event they think ashes might be a security risk, along with my shoes--and she read the name and nearly fell over. As did I. And Laurie and Ken and even the Fedex man who happened to be here delivering a case of exfoliating face pads for me from drugstore.com, which I can't get in England (and seem to have ordered 18 rolls of instead of 8).
Dery's, when rung, was not as apologetic as I might have been, but clearly were worried (I guess SO), especially since my final words to Fred Dery had been "Look after my Mama, please, Fred" and he assured me he would guard her with his life. Fred Dery who is now shortly to be dead himself if I ever run into him again.
The good news, finally, after 2 or more hours, was that Peter's son was located and asked about HIS container of ashes, the label of which indeed had my mother's name on it and--thank you God--had not been scattered in the Housatonic or over Hanoi or anything else Peg wouldn't have cared for. So, Dery's collected Peg, brought her to us, took (what was left of) Peter, and returned him to his son and, not counting Peg and Odd and the collies having company down there under the rhododendrons until kingdom come--all SEEMS to be sorted. I don't even want to think about what if the labels got switched. The other good news here is that I refused to pay Dery's bill, and they grudgingly rendered it null and void. So end of the day, Peg, by not staying put, saved me $3000.
The sad news is that Laurie and Ken, my helpers of three weeks, have had to go back to Ohio. Neither wanted to leave but she was worried about her cat. I told her to go get it and bring it back with them, which they just might, so hope to Christ a coyote doesn't get it.
7 for dinner tonight. 2 more tomorrow. 4 on Saturday. Freezer dinners. Hope they all like lamb, looks like Peg bought a herd. I have lovely lovely friends.
Habitat Restore came today and took an enormous truckload for charity, old shutters, rugs, chairs, everything, love them madly. Already becoming more like my mother, I invited them for lunch.
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