Been back for a few hours and got some pics for the gallery to enjoy and oogle over. I traveled the NW Arkansas/SW Missouri on Wednesday to pay respects for a great uncle of mine that was laid to rest on Thursday. My dad's mom's family came from the Ozarks and while the over whelming opinion of those that have never been around these type of people usually involve cracks about the family tree, for those of us that have the opportunity to enjoy being around these folks savor every minute of it. My great uncle, along with my grandmother and the 12 other siblings grew up in hard times (The Depression) with not much of anything. Survival was the name of the game. All they had was each other and their faith in God. That faith is pretty strong with a lot of these folks and even though these days I'm not a Christian and have found my own way to travel, the over whelming BULL**** opinion of some crackpots in society these days take people like my family as a threat to their own mindset, yet you would never see that or feel that from people that came from the Ozarks. In fact, my great grandpa, when he passed about 30 years ago, was still living in a one room rockhouse with no electricity and a well out back from which we drew water for everything. Now let's get past the ranting and get on with story time. First, I do have to issue a disclaimer before I get too far. If the woman from Broken Arrow, OK happens to read this, I just want to let you know that the impromptu horn at the green light yesterday wasn't me hitting on you. Even though you looked like a hottie that could use some Bubba Screen Door Banging Sessions, muttering the words "**** you" in your rearview, while getting a salute from me, wasn't the appropriate reply to the horn. In fact, maybe next time you could remove your head from your ass and realize that green means go and not to sit there with your thumb up your ass. Thank you. My great uncle was 80 years old when he passed away several days ago. I had been around him off and on over the years, usually seeing him for a few hours here and there and the one time I really got to spend time with him was back in '89 when I stayed at his place for the grandest family reunion that side of the family ever had. I had really connected with his daughter and granddaughter. The granddaughter is the same age as me and when we were kids and went to Missouri, we always played together. They are in fact the nicest people I have ever met. The service was an impromptu Southern Baptist affair. The preacher sang a couple of songs and in keeping with unwritten funeral policy, kept it about an hour. We then loaded up and traveled for about 30 minutes to my uncle's final resting place here: I noticed some of the gravestones and remarked that the cemetary must have been around for 200 years. After the service, we found out that I was close. The cemetary was founded in 1828. It is the family cemetary of my uncle's son-in-law's family and they started it ten years after arriving in the area. My cousin talked about how his family would always find bodies in the river that runs nearby and when needed, they would bury the body in their cemetary, a lot of times without even knowing who the person was. This kind of had my attention and my cousin related the story to me. He said that at one time, that used to be the biggest cherry tree in Missouri. The base measured out at 6'3". They had to removed the tree a few years ago after a storm came through the area.