Sure enough, a dusting of snow stuck overnight. It won’t last, but what does?

Regards for Thanksgiving. Back to posting around December 1, which can claim to be the start of winter, in as much as a single day can.

The figgy pudding Yuriko made on Sunday. Much of it is gone now, but Ann will be able to sample it when she’s back for the holiday. Bet she’ll be glad for the opportunity.

A stone at Graceland Cemetery last Sunday.

No name on it, except “Asano,” which I take to mean this is a work of Hiroyuki Asano, not a stone memorializing him, since he seems to still be alive. Maybe he’s planning ahead for his presence in Graceland, which I believe in the undertaker biz would count as “preneed.” (Pre-need?)

Or it could be a memorial for someone who didn’t want their name on it. That’s unusual, but not unknown: Erma Bombeck’s boulder in Dayton comes to mind. Or, the person who commissioned Asano’s piece at Graceland is also still alive, details to be added later.

John Welborn Root, Chicago architect (d. 1891). Forgot to post him.

In my efforts to see stones for well-known people, I also almost forgot to take a look at more ordinary folk. Almost, but not quite.

FamilySearch tells me (footnote numbers removed; but there were eight of them for a single paragraph) about the 161 Depot Brigade. It also features the unit patch, which is to the right.

Secretary of War Newton Baker authorized Major General Samuel Sturgis to organize the 161 Depot Brigade, an element of the 87th Division (National Army). It was later detached and placed directly under Camp Pike, Arkansas, as an independent unit.

The brigade filled two purposes: one was to train replacements for the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF); the other was to act as a receiving unit for men sent to camps by local draft boards. During most of 1918, the brigade was commanded by Brigadier General Frederick B. Shaw.

A different sort of memorial, in a different place – a nearby park that we visit often. We’d noticed Jake “The Snake” Popp’s bench before. Looks like people who remember The Snake fondly decorated his bench for the fall.

In the same park, a lamppost, ready to do its job.

On the post, a sign says it is a product of Traditional Concrete Inc., of Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin. Guess that name stresses the long-lasting — and traditional — material that goes into the company’s product, which is fine. But if I started a lamppost company, it would be Fiat Lux Inc.