Saturday


George stepped over three graves and then stood on the grave Joanne was working on.

“Get off the grave. You are standing right on their head. Extremely bad cemetery manners. Mrs. Jones would be highly upset if she saw you standing there. You had better go back and brush away all foot prints on the graves.” She glanced at George’s shoes. “And you have an unique tread pattern,”

George moved closer to Joanne. “Its got all this crud growing on it. I should have brought my big wire brush. The one on my cordless drill. That thing would make the crud disappear.”

Joanne stepped back a foot. “A wire brush. You got to be kidding. Don’t let Mrs. Jones hear you mention using a wire brush. You wouldn’t even graduate. A wire brush is absolutely the worse thing to use on a tombstone. It gets rid of the plant life but it takes off more of the stone.”

George rubbed the stone with his brush.

“No, leave my stone alone. Move on down to the next tombstone and do your own.”

George backed up until he was standing in the middle of the grave. “Maybe we can dig down close to the tombstone. Maybe the undertaker scratched his name in the top of the concrete vault.”

“Where do you get these dumb ideas? They didn’t do that a hundred years ago. Plus sometimes the really poor people didn’t have a vault.”

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