I am going to a funeral next Monday in Denver. The deceased was my father's first cousin so she is my first cousin, once removed. I just looked it up, and the 'removed' means we are in different generations.

Her husband was the CEO of ATT back in the good years when the phone company was a monopoly, so they are the wealthiest of our relatives, except maybe the ones back east with whom I share ownership of a farm. The after-funeral lunch is going to be at the very chi-chi Denver Country Club, which by other city standards is probably a goat farm, but in Denver that means something. All the really big houses/mansions are in that area, and their house is probably really something, although I've never seen it. The only times I've seen them is when they've come to family funerals, so it seems only fair to go to hers.

Besides, there will be cousins and it will be a good opportunity to see who shows up and reinforce our relationship.

Big problem though, I don't have anything to wear. All I can think of is how when I would go to my poor relations' funerals I felt sorry for my churchmouse girl cousins who come to the funeral in shabby pantsuits and sometimes blue jeans and there I was (this was when I was working) in a nice business-like suit or tasteful plain dress. My standard black dress that I tell myself spans the seasons is in Las Vegas. All I have here is a brightly flowered linen suit that I bought three years ago, and it might have been out of style when I bought it. My thinking on the brightness of it is that people could think I'm celebrating Elaine's long 90 year life by dressing in a cheery manner. Or I'm poor as a churchmouse and haven't bought anything new in years. Or wallpaper.

Well, the worm has turned and I will have to figure out what to do. I might go shopping, although I'm definitely not in the mood.