I had to weigh my Dad’s ashes before I flew to Ireland with them in 2016, as they were part of my luggage allowance.
I had to have them intact in their plastic ‘jar’ in my hand luggage, & with the certificate from the crematorium/undertaker available for inspection.
I had taken out a handful & sewn them into a green silk pouch, so that they could be buried in the family grave, & the rest were to be scattered in a special place.
This, of course, was strictly forbidden, so was achieved by a cousin & her husband going for a walk there, & distributing them ‘The Great Escape’ stylee…
The grounds of the Abbey have been closed to burials for years, & I don’t suppose anyone thought of ashes.
Not many Irish Carholics would consider cremation.
Hardly comparable, but when I had PoppyTheDog cremated I buried half of the ashes in a salt-glaze pot and planted a gorgeous poppy plant in it. The other half I planted in one of the borders, again with a poppy atop. The former never ‘did’ and the latter does - year after year.
Anyhoo - the Embra crew were in fine form, Baby was uncomplaining and entertaining and Poodle was fabulously gorgeous. We ate Morrison’s pizzas and salads with added bits and pieces and all was fine.
Soo xx
ETA - off to bed. As north as we are, Embra is quite a bit further so rest is needed. Good nights, Cellarites.
I hope that you managed a bit more after that, Carinthiaxx
I’m off to a funeral, shortly, for the brother of a good friend. Out of 5 siblings, she is the last one standing and she’s feeling that a bit. It’s only 4°C, but the wind is low - handwarmers will be deployed.
