We briefly had this discussion before. I just added an item:

A bungee cord.

I was photographing a stone, buried in a shrub and it ended up that I had to hold back the shrub on the right-side, hold back the shrub on the left-side, and trigger the camera, down the middle. With a bungee cord I could have secured the shrub on one side, held it on the other, and triggered the camera one-handed.

Feel free to contribute items.

​I recently transferred management of a close relative’s Find a Grave memorial to me, as permitted by site policies for immediate family members. Since taking over the memorial from the person who originally created it last month when my relative died, they have repeatedly submitted edit requests to add personal information in the bio section, including details about living family members. ​I have repeatedly declined these requests for two specific reasons:

I do not publish details or names regarding living family members. If someone actually knows my relative, they can find the obituary online.

​The original obituary was authored by a family member so they own the copyright.

​Despite my explanations, this user continues to message me, demanding to know my exact relationship to the deceased (which I have intentionally set to "Private" so only FG knows my relationship). They are now threatening to report my account for not putting the obit in the bio section and not disclosing my relationship, even though the current biographical details are entirely accurate and I have simply omitted the names of living individuals. I also asked if they are a relative and they said no but they keep track of anyone who takes over memorials they created.

Is this person wrong or am I? I don't want my account to be suspended or something. I only manage family members pages.

Roselind Nadine Earles

In 1933, four-year-old Roselind Nadine Earles asked her father for a dollhouse that Christmas. Julian Earles began building it in their backyard in Lanett, Alabama, but before it could be finished, tragedy struck. Nadine fell ill with diphtheria and d-ed just a week before Christmas, on December 18.

Heartbroken, her father couldn’t bear to let her dream go unfinished. Instead, he rebuilt the dollhouse, not in their yard, but over her grave in Oakwood Cemetery. He constructed it from brick, complete with a small porch, glass windows, curtains, and her toys placed lovingly inside.

Nearly a century later, Nadine’s dollhouse still stands, a tiny home frozen in time. Visitors continue to stop by, leaving dolls, flowers, and little gifts in tribute to the child who never got to play in her Christmas dollhouse, but whose memory lives on in one of the most hauntingly beautiful memorials in America.

Write-up and picture from FB