All That's Certain is Death and Taxis AKA 'Baby, you're a firework'

Today it will have been three years since Gran died. We had a bit of a party for her at the weekend where we ate loads of food and danced to 'Get Down On It', which was her favourite song. It was quite nice until Cousin Peter drank too much and started having pretend sex with the teapot. That would have been okay if it had stopped there, but his wife Trisha started making comments about his performance in the bedroom and he threw the dog at her. Luckily she caught it.

As it's been a while now we've started to think about what to do with her ashes, as we can't keep her under the sink forever. It took us ages to dry her out when we had the leak. She's taking up quite a bit of space as she was a big lady, she was 6'3 and 30 stone when she died (she would have been taller but she had that old lady thing where you get a bit crooked and lose a few inches in height) so she's filling up almost half of the Tesco carrier.

Mam wanted to do that thing where they turn the ashes into a diamond and put it into a piece of jewellery which I thought would be quite apt as Gran was always down the pawn shop, and that way she'd still be able to visit. It was a bit more expensive than we thought though and we only had enough money to turn her into a bit of coal, which is apparently only halfway to a diamond. Mam asked if they could turn her into a cubic zirconia instead, so we're still waiting to hear how much that would be.

Cousin Terry wanted to put her into a firework which we thought was a good idea too, but he lost two fingers doing a practice one so we decided not to go ahead with that. It was a massive coincidence, though, the firework he was carrying exploded right on the doorstep of his ex wife's new house. Maybe it was Gran giving him a sign or something.

It was pretty sad but we did all have a laugh at all our funny memories of her, like the time Terry accidentally left her in the taxi, turns out that the funeral director would have come to the house to get her, so Terry needn't have had to paid for a taxi after all. We managed to get her back before anyone realised and she was put into lost property or something. Luckily the taxi driver didn't realise she was dead and when Terry finally caught up said they'd had a great conversation, all about the state of the country today and how no one has any morals these days. Gran would have agreed if she'd been able to, she was all for morals, she was. In fact, she split up with Edwin because he made a racist comment about Mr Khan. Luckily she didn't have to go through an expensive divorce because the fact she was still married to George meant the marriage wasn't legal anyway.

Learnings

I’ve learnt a few things this week. One, that priests and vicar men do actually wear things under their church dresses and aren’t like scottish men who let their willy waggle free. And two, they can be quite violent unlike buddhists. I think Jesus would say that kicking someone up the arse was pretty wrong to be honest. I can’t say I ever read it in the bible, although the one I read was ‘Tales of the Bible’ for primary school kids and only ten pages, I think they would have put that bit in if he had done that sort of thing. And then maybe we would have followed his friend Sean instead who was much kinder and didn’t kick women up the bums, even though Sean wasn’t actually the son of god and was just someone Jesus went to school with.

I can’t really remember much about the book to be honest and someone had already drawn cocks coming out of peoples heads before Gran got it out the library. The librarian said if she got rid of all the books that people had drawn cocks in then she’d only have the dictionary and the copy of War and Peace that was used to jam the fire door shut. 

Church is a bit funny though isnt it, I went to spiritualist church the other day and was hoping that the psychic would be able to talk to Gran and ask her where she hid the key for the shed. Grandads ashes are still in there and apparently you can make ashes into diamonds. I think Grandad will make quite a big diamond as the fire brigade had to cut a hole in the wall and crane him out when he had to go to the hospital to have his toenails done. Instead of a small urn the undertaker had to put him in two shoeboxes and a carrier bag. Grandad liked a drink and when he died most of his friends and family thought they would put a bottle of whiskey in his casket. I’ve still got at least a bottle and a half left. 

Tonight, Dawn wants me to go with her to see Fifty Shades of Grey but I don’t want to. I’m sure the writer stole the idea from my earlier blog and the line where I said the sheets were fifty shades of yellow after one particular wild night with Kev.