Golden Weekend

Golden Weekend.

A resident’s favorite two words. Right up there with “sleeping in,” “good job,” “free food,” or “free [insert pretty much anything here].” Yes, Golden Weekend sort of sounds like something from a Bob & Tom song, that could be kind of dirty (fine, that’s probably just me), but actually (in the context of residency anyway) it means A Whole Weekend Off.

[Cue Choir of Angels Singing]

Last weekend I had my first Golden Weekend in a very long time. Sure, I ended up working on work-stuff for most of it, and a fair portion of it was devoted to making sure I have a healthy supply of clean clothes, a (somewhat) clean (-er, -ish?) apartment, and stocking up with Pop Tarts and Diet Coke – normally menial activities that are transformed into Simple Pleasures Of Life when one never usually has the time or energy to do them, and is regularly forced to wear their most last-ditch, wedgiefying of undies due to a lamentable lack of clean, comfortable granny panties, live in an apartment that appears to be occupied by a small horde of (very messy) squatters, and to eat stale whateverisleftinthecupboard surprise at 4-5 am before they shower (And, okay, sometimes while showering. It’s a whole Time management strategy/Way to sleep in for five, blessed more minutes thing I’m perfecting) and leave for work.

But, by God, I did it all when I darn well felt like it, usually after 12-14 hours of beautiful, beautiful IhavetheWholeWeekendOff sleep (the very best kind).

Of course, I also made time to combine my now quarterly exercise routine (Not counting running around Big Giant Hospital every day with a very heavy back pack and/or bag ‘o gyn supplies, which does totally count as exercise btw. Because I make a point to take the stairs and/or the long way. Usually. Usually because I am lost. But still.) with a photo expedition.

Which sounds really exciting, except it was just walking up a hill and then around the historic cemetery that is just a couple blocks from where I live. Which sounds less exciting and more weird now, I know, but it was still rather exciting.

Erm, let me explain.

First of all, this activity was free (I did mention how virtually anything that is free is very exciting for most residents), it was an unseasonably, very nice day to be out getting a person’s quarterly exercise in the form of a very long walk, and this historic cemetery is actually sort of a giant park in the middle of the city (it has lots of trees, and even a lake). Right, still sounds kind of weird.

Well, as I explained to one very skeptical (and possibly, slightly concerned) friend, the cemetery really is a Historical Site (registered and everything) where many famous people are buried. And, in addtion to all the cool history stuff (I really like history stuff), it is chock-full of beatiful stautary, and other such memorially, monumental-type things. All of which I have really wanted a crack at taking pictures of since I first went there with The Writer many months ago, and was drug out quite unwillingly after only a paltry half hour or so of just barely glancing at very interesting things, to go eat sushi or something.

[Cue indignant grumbly noises]

So it was my chance to go back, taking as long as I wanted, to see all the fascinating historical stuff and take pictures of it to my heart’s content. In still, fine I will admit, a somewhat odd setting. But, really, it was so interesting. To read the stories of the people, or to try and construct them from what little information was available on tombs or various family plots. To try and imagine what they or their lives were like, to remember them, and pay homage in a way by taking (hopefully only good and properly tasteful) pictures of what they left behind, at least in this their final resting place, to be remembered by.

And I don’t think that is so weird. To be curious about people, to pay respects, and to want to remember them. Because, really, isn’t that what we all want in the end? For someone to think about us when we’re gone? To be remembered……….

 

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