Look at it for a few seconds. Notice anything? (Other than the blurriness! Our lens got a pebble in it and wouldn't turn correctly for a few weeks.) Do you see them?
Yes, this is a playground. With headstones in the background. It is essentially a cemetery/playground. Ahhh. . .and how could anyone NOT love Europe?
We live next to a cemetery. Well, we live next to a church. And if you climb the wall in our garden, you can see the tombstones, because they're literally next door. But it could be worse. There's a little cottage for sale down the way, and the windows in the kitchen face the cemetery. I asked M, "Do you think that affects resale? I mean, seriously. How badly would you freak out if you were doing dishes at night and saw someone walking through there?" No thank you, ma'am. It's an old cemetery, too, which I think just makes things even creepier.
Back to THIS cemetery, though. Mr. A was playing in it, happy as a lark, for about 15 minutes. The first pictures is when he was completely unaware of his surroundings.
Hey, Mr. A. What's behind you?
At 8, though, it's not enough to want to leave. The playing in a cemetery (and living next to one) adds to his 'street cred.' It's creepy enough to pretend shiver over when he's on the phone with his cousins, but overall, he doesn't bring it up.
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