A brief post and a comedy moment.

Well, after my last rant about needing more work, I've had it coming out of my ears!

I've now done a total of 55 funerals, with two booked for this week.

I still can't get used to the unpredictable nature of this work (I've always had "steady", boring jobs), but that's the nature of the beast.

This will be a short post, as I haven't much to say just now, but I did have a lovely comedy moment.

We had the ceremony of a much loved and elderly gentleman. He was a solid sort of chap who, in his peak had looked after three allotments at once and fed the family all summer. His daughter chose Kipling's "The Glory of the Garden" (I have a slightly adapted version, taking the god out of it) to be read. The deceased's grandson read the poem very clearly and it was well received.

Afterwards, standing at the flower terrace (I always hang around afterwards, having been disgusted at a family funeral once by the vicar being in his car and half way down the drive before we'd even read the card on the floral tribute), I congratulated the grandson on his delivery of the poem.

A lady came up to him and started to speak, so I stepped slightly to one side. She then came up to me and asked "And who are you?"

"I conducted the ceremony."

"Oh yes, of course you did".

Being a giggler, I was actually proud that I didn't burst out laughing. In fairness, this lady's vision is not strong, but once she heard my voice, she recognised me.

To be honest, I found it funny, as I had been standing there for the best part of half an hour, rattling on about life, the universe, everything and, of course, the dear departed.

However, I was really pleased that she hadn't realised who I was. It doesn't matter who I am (unless someone wants a celebrant, then my name can be emblazoned in big letters). It matters who the deceased was, and it matters that we gave him a meaningful and appropriate send off.

I often think "it's not about you" when I meet family members, but I certainly think that about my own part in the proceedings.

A while ago I met someone, through some other work that I do and he was talking about his good friend who had died last year. I pieced bits of the conversation together and realised that this had been my fourth funeral. The chap I'd met hadn't recognised me at all, but he remembered what a good funeral it was.

Job done.

Not doing so bad after all, then.

There are times in my life when I realise how competitive I am and it's not a trait that I like to discover.

This weekend there was a gathering of the godless where I met up with fellow celebrants, including some from my training group.

This was great; with them (and others) we shared lots of ideas and came away feeling positive and enthused.

Before the gathering, I was convinced that one of the group was doing hundreds of ceremonies and that I was doing none by comparison. It turns out that she's doing roughly the same number and I was relieved. Yes, I know it's pathetic; we're not in a race or competition, but this is what I mean about the trait I don't like in myself.

Another colleague, who trained a couple of months after us, as got a slightly higher workload and I found myself feeling jealous and resentful. Yes, I know, I know. It is pathetic.

I've had a couple of ceremonies since my last post. We nearly had a comedy moment with the first one. As it was at the beginning, when everyone's feeling a bit anxious and I try to keep the dignity pretty high, this would have been awful, but thankfully it turned out okay.

The deceased had been a sailor and a floral tribute of a boat was on the coffin as he was carried in. The tribute was a flower-covered base (hull?) with a mast and sail. All was fine until they got near the catafalque. At this particular crematorium, there's a cross brace in the ceiling and so 100 of us watched with contorted faces as the top of the mast hit the cross-brace. Thankfully, there was a bit of flex and so it just bent and then went back upright, but that could have been funny/a nightmare depending on your point of view.

When I was talking with the family afterwards, they asked if I was going to write a book as the deceased had been quite a character and there had been some lovely anecdotes to share. I smiled and said I would keep them anonymous if I did. Didn't feel the need to mention this blog at the time.

And then yesterday was one of those ceremonies where lots of people like to speak, which is great. I was prepared (I had a long tribute and a short tribute written, and ended up using the short one). It was a bit weird at one point as one speaker started talking about seeing a dead relative (this wasn't a dream, apparently) and now being happy that the deceased would be meeting up with him .....

Confession time - I completely forgot to put in the one poem they had chosen. To be honest, with so many family members speaking, time was very short. I said afterwards that it was more important that everyone who knew the deceased spoke rather than reading a poem, which I do think to be true, but I should have put the poem in, even if it was only in the copy of the words that I give to the family afterwards.

However, they were pleased with the way things went and another funeral arranger/director (friend of the chief mourner) was there, so I'm now on another FD's "list".

It's terribly sordid and commercial sometimes, isn't it.

But, following the gathering of the godless, I'm fired up and raring to go.

I am also aware that I was among adults this weekend. I was in the ladies, which had about four cubicles. How do I know that I was with grownups? Someone farted and nobody laughed.