The Price of Butter.
Time fixes many problems. Take it from someone who always says that things usually take care of themselves, which is true. We are all food for the worms.
I was in Valence Cemetery this morning. It is overgrown. Shockingly so. I was looking for that supermarket I can never find that sells preserved chestnuts.
Even Holt Cemetery is better maintained than Valence Cemetery, and Holt Cemetery is maintained by amateurs. This is because in order to keep your family plot in Holt Cemetery, you have to maintain it. To be an amateur is to labor for the love of it. Holt cemetery’s rule is that if you do not use, you lose.
Valence Cemetery is maintained by City Hall. Go figure. Union job. Somebody probably lost the keys to the weedwhacker. If you cannot get fired, you do not worry about losing your job. I know that is the way I am.
Death is everywhere. There is no escaping Father Time or his cousin, twice removed, the Grim Reaper. Life is what you make it. Ask the members of the New Ladies Providence Benevolent Mutual Aid Association who have their tombs reserved in Valence Cemetery.
More to follow in a moment. I need to draw the curtain. Today has taken a very interesting turn. Butter is involved.