cemetery ramblings

Yesterday the ViL and I went for a walk in the nearby cemetery. It's a lazy day option, but I do like checking out whether there are any new and interesting floral tributes.

We'd noted that many of the headstones had been staked with great, giant dowels. It looks absolutely attrocious. I've blogged about the desecration of cemeteries in the past - when headstones had been laid flat - but now Lambeth council has gone for the "headstone on a stick" option.



The workmen were there staking headstones as we were taking our walk. The ViL and I, as we are wont to do, started grumbling about it. We are grumblers and under-the-breath mutterers. Well, apparently we weren't under-the-breath enough about it, because a great giant, grey bearded fellow (picture Santa's evil twin wearing muddy coveralls) whose job it is to stake the headstones approached us and asked if we "understood the work being done."

Now mostly, I just wanted to get away from crazy greybeard. I've got nothing against people who work in cemeteries for a living, but you have to wonder what other career they might have pursued had they scored just a little higher in the charisma section of the personality test of life. But crazy greybeard was trying to appeal to my husband's sense of reason and logic. No, crazy greybeard - don't do it! - I thought. The ViL is a PhD lawyer - he's all trained in out arguing you - and let's face it - this headstone staking isn't really logical. But I suppose that crazy greybeard has to deal with plenty of irate or unsettled relatives, and figures it's best to head them off at the emotional pass.

The ViL starts out all reasonable "Yes, I understand the theory..." and then the ViL starts expounding on all the arguments we'd been muttering about - e.g. there being greater hazards in the (very) uneven paving and pathways that old people often tread to visit the graves in this particularly cemetery.

Crazy greybeard said that 5 children had died over the last 10 years, and that many of the graves were unsafe. Apparently the new fangled headstones come in two chunks (or more) of marble cemented together and are much less rugged than the old ones.

The ViL pointed to the staked marker at our feet. The plastic straps weren't even touching the headstone, which was one of those low lying ones that barely rose 12 inches from the ground. Sure it was at risk of crumbling - if you jumped on it, a bunch - but the stake rising from the ground at a 45 degree angle posed a greater safety hazard. Crazy greybeard had to concede that this marker was unlikely to hurt even a baby - and he scanned the cemetery for a headstone that might kill you if it fell on you. "See that cross over there, that would hurt if it fell on you," he pointed to an old monument many staked rows away.

The ViL asked the man if he was a private contractor - (yes). I wanted to ask the fellow how the contract was written (was he also the tester? was he paid a flat fee to make the cemetery safe or was he paid by the stake? how much was he getting per headstone "made safe"?) - but mostly I wanted to get home to pee - so I said nothing. The crazy greybeard gave up on us and suggested that we ask the fellow in the office if we had any more questions. We didn't. But I am thankful indeed that it's not our local taxes paying for this.

The ViL also, and perhaps rather uncharitably, suggested that perhaps the children killed by falling headstones had been attempting to pull them down - and that it was more a case of natural justice than unsafe memorials.

On our way out, we saw a young woman standing outside the cemetery fence watching the stakes driven into the ground with some kind of nifty hydraulic hammer system. Crazy greybeard strode through the tall grass and not-yet-safe headstones to ask her if she "understood the work being done." She said "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend to come back to the car." But he explained the life-saving necessity of his work anyway.