Don't try this at home (or anywhere else, for that matter)

I have always had a... peculiar... sense of humor as far as I can recall and I doubt I would have lived (and remained within shouting distance of sanity) as long as I have without the ability to find whimsy in even the most trying times.  Probably just as important to my continued survival (and avoidance of jail time), though, is that I lack the proclivity to follow through on such deeds mischievous despite how many of them I might dream up.  To put it another way, it is largely the same imagination that allows to think up such ideas that prevents me from carrying them out.  Case in point: while transporting my wife's urn/ashes back to Los Angeles from my step-daughter's apartment, I wondered what would happen if I "accidentally on purpose" left them on the train.  Mind you, I haven't taken leave of senses to the point where I would do that, for her remains are far too valuable to me to try.  For example, whoever found them might report them as a suspicious package and they might receive less than ideal treatment by those called in to deal and/or dispose of them, especially in this age of heightened security.  However, I don't think anyone has yet devised a way to punish someone for merely having such thoughts, thus allowing me to indulge in a capricious mental exercise of visualizing the reaction of the poor, unsuspecting soul who happened upon them had I actually gone through with it.

She's Baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

Finally, the Lorena has returned to Los Angeles^{1, 2}
And for one brief and shining moment,she was even here, back home in what was previously our apartment.³  But for better or worse, I took her over to her sister's place... and tears began to flow⁴.  And when that was all over, they began to flow again.  In between, there was time for me to eat three chicken tortillas and some reheated Mexican-style pinto beans interrupted by periods of comforting her sister and our (i.e., my and my wife's) niece and answering or declining to answer questions from our 5(?)-year-old grandniece⁵ (Is that tía Lore in there?  Can she get out?  Can you open it?).  Some time during all of this, I offered to let them keep her ashes for a brief yet unspecified amount of time and they agreed.  Thus, she is currently being memorialized in a vigil there with the whole burning candles around her "urn" ⁶.

¹ And not only can't I smell what the Lorena is cooking, I doubt that she is cooking.
² And, yes, it is time to play "how many cultural references can you spot and identify in this post".
³ The "where she belongs" is, of course, implied.
⁴ As a male, I can neither confirm nor deny that any such tears proceeded from me, but let the reader(s) figure it out.
⁵ This is the same grandniece who once (when my wife was still alive) asked me "Is your tía Lore home?". In an effort to correct her, I explained that Lorena was not my tía ("aunt"), but my esposa ("wife").  After which she asked, "Oh, so is your tía esposa home?".
⁶ It looks more or less like this⁷:

except:

1. it's dark blue instead of black;
2. it has a label with her name and the name of and information for the cremation service (Cremation Services, Inc., 2570 Fortune Way Suite D Vista, CA 92081, 760-727-8906); and,
3. most importantly, it is closed and possibly sealed.

⁷ This is in no way meant as a criticism or complaint against the service. On the contrary, one of the things that most impressed me about them is that while they offer (more expensive) alternatives, they didn't try to upsell any of them to me by suggesting that paying more equates to loving my wife more⁸, which I have read is a common tactic among funerary services. Not the most creatively named, but highly recommended by yours truly.  Now if they only offered a referral fee if I can get someone to mention that he or she heard of their service here....
⁸ Then again, that was probably a smart and/or fortunate move on their part when dealing with me because I would have immediately asked them whether that was what they meant if they had.

Going to pick up my wife's ashes

Not really much to expand on from the post's title.  Just put the finishing touches (namely, calling my step-daughter to make sure she doesn't have any plans that would prevent me from getting the ashes) to get off of work at 6:00 a.m. (Inglewood) ⇒ Union Station (Los Angeles) ⇒ Oceanside, CA via MetroLink ⇒ Stepdaughter's house ⇒  get ashes and return home.  Or at least that's the plan.  Hopefully Mr. Murphy won't make an appearance on the trip.
So everyone behave until I get back, hear?