The sweet smell of grass…

No not that kind of grass….real grass. I remember one of my work assignments was to mow the cemetery. I would start up the riding lawn mower and putt-putt down the long front drive way, before taking a left into the cemetery. It cemetery was a long rectangular patch of grass completely surrounded by tall evergreens on all four sides. At the far end of the rectangle were 8 or 10 graves of members of the Fathers of Mercy who had owned the property before the SCJ’s. I remember skillfully dodging the head stones, while trying to trim every blade of grass. Then it was just back and forth to finish off the space, before putt-putting back up the hill. Tough duty, but someone had to do it.