I was in the local graveyard this week for entirely work-related purposes when I found this:
One of my biggest pet peeves inscribed forever on some poor schmuck's gravestone. When I die, just scatter my ashes, because I don't want there to be even the slightest chance of grammatically incorrect gravestone inscriptions that keep my memory alive.
Tonight we played "quick, carve a pumpkin between dinner and writing tomorrow's lecture!" (except that I'm posting this instead of getting to that lecture...). Partner is wonderful and did all the prep work. But here are the results; I had briefly considered FSM pumpkins or maybe pirates, but I got lazy. And busy. Oh well.
3 hours ago