Mithering Sunday

I don’t like to get out of bed on a Sunday so popped into see my auld Irish mammy the day. Also said hello to the late Mrs H’s granny who, spookily enough, is in the same row.
 
I say spooky as my grandparents were dead before I was born (she was the 7th daughter of a 7th daughter so knew what was coming) and Lindas grandparents died before we were a couple.
 
Oddly we never had the “where are your grandparents buried” conversation until 15 years after we got married when it came time to bury my mither. So she’s in beside her folks and just along the road fae Lindas granny.
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