Have you ever heard a name as fantastic as Coffin Colket? There was apparently a period of time in the not-so-distant past where the names Sarah, Emma, William and Coffin were plentiful. OK, well the last one was not AS plentiful as the others, but it’s interesting, no? I have seen it in pictures. Like this one:

Now that my non-migraine-but-still-horrible headache from last night is gone, I’d like to finish telling about my fun weekend in Philly. Sunday was cemetery day. Laurel Hill Cemetery, as a matter of fact. It was lovely. There was conversation about zombies and daylight and whatnot, but I’m truly not creeped out by cemeteries. Nor am I morbidly fascinated by them. Laurel Hill is a historic site full of amazingly beautiful (and yes, sometimes eerie) monuments and tombs and graves and headstones.

Some more info:

Today, Laurel Hill is… an estimated 78-acre tract of land that is divided into three sections—the North, Central and South portions of the Cemetery—that were each founded at different times in the site’s development. Laurel Hill is one of the only cemeteries in the nation to be honored with the designation of National Historic Landmark, a title received in 1998. Countless prominent people are buried at the Cemetery, including many of Philadelphia’s leading industrial magnates. Names such as Rittenhouse, Widener, Elkins and Strawbridge certainly pique local interests, but Laurel Hill also appeals to a national audience. General Meade and thirty-nine other Civil War-era generals reside here, in addition to six Titanic passengers.

So there. I’ll be posting more photos in the future. It’s just hard to choose  — and until I get my ass in gear and do something fun with Flickr or the like and get a slideshow embedded somewhere, I’m doing it the low-tech way, homez.

After walking around the cemetery, taking photos for a few hours, we were pretty damn hungry. I asked Sara where there was a place with many food choices that was open on a Sunday. She said something about Reading Market; the look on my face must’ve said something like, “What are you talking about?” or “Carry on… this name intrigues me…” because she was like, “Have you been?” and I was all like, “No!” and she was like, “OK… we’re going!” And we went to Reading Terminal Market. Since it was a Sunday, the Amish were not there selling fresh homemade ice cream and such.

I did manage, however, to have a delicious turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce sandwich. And buy some linden honey. And observe many many chemists eating lunch and milling about talking ’bout chemistry stuff as the American Chemical Society’s annual convention was taking place at the convention center across the street. In terms of convention food? They WIN. I’ve worked a fair share of conventions and trade shows in my day and the food selection at most convention centers (I include NY, Boston and DC in this grouping) is abysmal.

Once lunch was gotten, we… umm… went to get more gelato at Capogiro. And then walked more. Checked out the fountain and the LOVE sculpture at JFK Plaza. Sadly, I did not get any good photos of this as I left my camera in the car whilst we got lunch and didn’t return to get it between. I took one with my cell phone. Here’s what that produced:

A wee bit grainy. Oh, well.

And then, I basically got packed and went home. I still haven’t recounted the misery of the voyage there and back. It was a bit of a suckfest - BoltBus and Greyhound both. Another day perhaps. Another day.