Elders Day is the first day of winter, and the weather won’t let you forget it. When we wake up it’s still night, and a glance outside is enough to know we’ll be needing our coats today.
At breakfastwe’re already all dressed for the day. It’s not a funeral, or even really a sad day at all, but the custom is to wear black, and to look as nice as we can.
Another custom is to spend time as a family. It is, after all, the day to remember our ancestors.
But Cléo is not in a talkative mood. She chows down on some Frankenstein cake, avoiding eye contact with me.
Not that I find this that discouraging.
Dad is the last one to get ready, and he joins us into the kitchen. Soon, we’ll start lighting the candles together. Well, more candles.
Cléo clearly still wishes she were somewhere else. Or maybe she’s just mad at me.
The Stewarts Family (and other shenanigans) 