What am I Doing Here?

Cut the grass please.

Today Stan and I drove out to a place that was a cemetery. It had not been taken care of, mowedl, whatever in a few years.
We were looking for his and now my great grandfather and great grandmother's grave. It was a weird trip. We went down a road that had a sign "No Turning Around. We went to a house to ask a neighbor. Not at home.
Stan did find the cemetery.We had to open a gate, walk in a pasture like are. and go through the cemetery's gate which was not locked. But I was so afraid of snakes. I don't like them and I am sure that they don't like me.
We took pictures and commented on the condition of the grounds. We saw baby's headstones, Commoratiave plaques of the GAR and other things.
The one thing that got a feeling from me was the headstone that identified a lady who was a surviving person of "Trail of Tears." What sorrow that I felt for her. I have seen pictures and read stories but have never been this close to someone who had suffered so much. RIP Lucinta D. Kernell. I regret what our government did to the people of the Indian nations.
We left and went home but not before we discovered that we may have been infested by chiggers. Oh do I scratch!!!
I took a bath and scrubbed 3 times. Later I still scratched so I wiped myself with alcohol. About an hour later I saw some moving freckles on why body. Stan is in a lot of trouble if those freckles still move tomorrow. He says that he is not itching. How dare he say that. Scratch honey, scratch!!!
So I am getting ready to go to bed. I do not want to sleep on the inside because I am afraid of the little, miserable critters that might be with me.
No more cemetery visiting unless the grass is cut.
No more!
Going reluctantly to be.
Niglhty---scratch-scratch-night.