HST Day

In a sense - er, - in most senses, it is wrong to celebrate a suicide. But one must die sometime, right? And to die - to follow this terribly silly logic to the end - one must first be born. We see nothing wrong with celebrating birthdays, do we? So there are two inevitable things for any “person”, lest taxes. Why not celebrate death? Do so no matter how it comes, right?

So back to it. One year ago today, at the outskirts of Philadelphia that is the Suburban Farm, we had snow that would rival the great State of Michigan in her grandest hour. I built a snow pyre to Hunter that day. Today, as miserably muddy as this day is, I couldn’t. I built a small fire instead. It was comprised of some branches that fell from the recent winds and the top layer of leaves from the compost pile (not composted, or course). The chickens all bowed in homage.

The police and the fire department both showed. Seems a fire after dusk is against the law…

Dear reader… Did you ever