It's almost a given at this point that if he takes me out to eat on the Island, this house of Pakastani food is the destination. Lunch buffets are super-romantic, especially if you go back for seconds, which you can bet I do.
After raving about the food to John for the next hour like I always do, he drove us around to his old haunts, and we sat in quiet on the dock.
I took a picture of myself sly and shifty-eyed in the salty wind. I'm looking at John and laughing at myself for taking a selfie when I'm on a date. For Pete's sake.
We drove around for a while more, and when John turned around so I could admire a striking house for a second time (a narrow, white Victorian as tall as you can imagine), he screeched to a halt next to this little church.
For this reason, he screeched to a halt.
In high school he used to landscape in this section of town with Dude but hadn't noticed the sign before. We searched out the famous bones and found them here.
(Note the erudite cherub.)
To our exclamations upon returning home, Dude and Mom O. replied, "Oh, yeah. That's always been there. You didn't know that?!" Apparently, Wodehouse lived in town for years and was famous for donating lots of money to a local animal hospital.
Now we (and you) know.
We found the remains of an inspired Wooster chase on the headstone.
After watching this documentary last year, my delight at watching noted atheist Christopher Hitchens and theologian Doug Wilson giggle together as they shared Wodehouse quotes made me want to read every last book Wodehouse wrote.
Before we left, I told John that if I ever earned an epitaph like this, I'd count my life worthy, and it's true.
I like this whole post.
ReplyDelete...but what I wanted to tell you is that I was trying to read the Pakistani restaurant sign like a scrabble board. Which made he third word something like, "RBHOUSE."
ReplyDelete