Sunday 25 July 2010

Ash, ash atishoo!

Someone paid £700 for the ashes of the Coronation Street cat, Frisky. That sort of money buys an awful lot of moggie. What do they do with the ash? Put it on top of the telly so his spirit can return to the rooftops of the nations' favourite soap?

Left my dad's ashes all over the boot of the hire car after the top came off. Still warm they were too. No one tells you how much of this stuff there is . Bigger than a couple of bags of sugar that's for sure and much finer, so it gets everywhere, including up your nose. Sorry dad, just sneezed you all over the rear windscreen.

Disposal is a problem when proper respect is required. St James' Park put a stop to dead fans finding a final resting place on its hallowed turf, seems they ruined the game, so we settled for a scattering over the waters of the Tyne.

With a breeze strong enough to knock a tugboat off track this posed a problem of its own. Many a black outfit was liberally flecked with grey by the end. Put himself about a bit did dad, never more so than on that day, but hopefully his sense of humour lives on.

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