|Grandpa used to try to clip|
clothespins on his nieces' noses.
They clothespinned his flowers
at the memory.
Mom and Dad went first, naturally, and we were just behind. A long train of cars queued up behind us. They stayed faithfully with us, right up until the usual eastward turn. Expressions of disbelief, and yes, even a fair amount of guffaws broke out in our car as the hearse signaled to turn down the “Bridge Out 9 Miles” road.