Dave, Mona and I took a quick jaunt to Victoria on the southernmost tip of Vancouver Island last week, right in the middle of a stormy patch of miserable weather. To remind me of why I left my birthplace for good ten years ago, I shot this from a car deck aboard BC Ferries. Cold as an ex-boyfriend. Bleh.
As you'll scroll further, the most noteworthy event was a walkabout through Ross Bay Cemetary.
Above/below: fine examples of funereal symbolism.
The back of a marker commemorating the lives of two young people.
Although her portrait graces Mr. Bossi's epitaph, Mrs. Bossi is not buried by her husband, but about 100 feet away in a less artful looking plot. This is the only tangible example I know of a married couple taking their domestic squabbles to their grave(s).
"It is a rotten world. {Artful politicians are its bane} It's saving grace is the artlessness of the young and the wonders of the sky."
There is an archive photo in the provincial museum of John Dean leaning against his tablet after that 'politician bit' was tacked on, proving in fact that it was not a posthumus correction.
The 'Pimp' plot, formerly Grimp. Someone cunning peeled off a select portion of lead lettering at least twenty years ago; the time when I first stumbled upon it.
The imfamous 'blue angel' of Ross Bay. Many restoration attempts by kind volunteers haven't completely removed the blue spray paint from this very ornate marble grave marker. Karma is sure to get the dude who took her lovely right hand (open palm, relaxed fingers with manicured nails as I remember it).
That nasty storm that buffeted BC last week blew down an electrical cable in the back yard, singing a tree with crackly pink sparks. An enormous amount of blue smoke made it appear bigger than the minor nuisance it caused. The tree itself hardly suffered much and it's still there, on the edge of Highway 99 behind the house. 
Speaking of pink flames, I'd rather find them in the fireplace for the sole purpose of keeping us warm and toasty till next April.
