MARCH 9--A trio of teenage burglars who stole cash, jewelry, electronics, and prescription drugs from a Missouri residence also thought they got away with a stash of cocaine they found in a wooden box, only to later discover that the powder was actually the cremated remains of the homeowner’s father, police report.
Upon determining that they were not, in fact, in possession of cocaine, the teens discarded the remains out the window of their getaway car. One of the burglars actually tasted the powder and realized it was not a controlled substance.
I tried to think of a witty repartée, but I'm not sure I can think of anything more absurd than what these teenage buffoons did. At least they didn't try to smoke it.
“Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. And, weak men create hard times.”
Uncle Arthur, a world traveler and explorer and author of some small renown. returned to Slapton England in his final years and lived with his sister Aunt Ethel. Aunt Ethel was considered to be just marginal for living on her own, being what was termed "dotty" in those days. Aunt Ethel's main claim to fame was that she was a baker, both vocationally and avocationally, and her gifts to family members, dutifully sent in time to arrived on time, for birthdays, weddings, and other occasions, were always delicious and thus welcome. Even her Christmas pudding, which each family member received, was considered a delicacy.
My widowed great-grandmother had come to the US with her husband and family and settled in CA and before the family began to go their separate ways, would all gather at table for each occasion, and Aunt Ethel's Christmas Pudding was looked forward to each year. In 1917, during "The Great War", the traditional package was received on Christmas Eve, a little bit late due to mail problems with the war on, and the usual Christmas letter was not in the package. My great-grandmother opened the package and found, along with the pudding, a small jar containing a whitish powder, and decided that this must be a component for the brandy hard sauce that also was a tradition for Aunt Ethel's Christmas Pudding, so, with much tasting and testing she whipped it up.
The family agreed that the pudding was as good as they had ever enjoyed, but the the sauce was a little gritty, but no one volunteered to let Aunt Ethel know, so they were duly surprised when Aunt Ethel's Christmas letter, also always a family tradition as the old lady considered herself a central source for all of the goings on in the family and made sure that everyone else knew everything down to the finest detail in this once a year missive, arrived a few days after Christmas.
It seems that in his travels Uncle Arthur had developed a love for some of the natural wonders of California, Yosemite and Sequoia areas, and it was his fondest wish for the family to take his ashes and sprinkle them in those locations . . .
