notes from above ground

NOTES FROM ABOVE GROUND An overheard remembrance by carl grupp Dear Sir, I have been so glad to hear from you that all is well and that your headstone is to your liking and specifications, It certainly seemed quite humorous to all of us at the shop, reading the limerick you wrote for your epithet. It really is a knee slapper. It has been miserably cold here at the outer limits. We are all praying for an early spring. The ground is like granite, so we are constantly having to replace or sharpen broken picks. Your new lace wardrobe sounds exquisite. Where on earth did you find someone to make it. As for me I can’t complain too much ,as if it would do me much good if I did. The food is not the best, but there is plenty of it. Last week some joker dumped a tube of Bb’s into our morning oatmeal, so that was cause for some excitement, and created a brief escape from the usual. A number of people ended up with badly cracked dentures, and added to that the misfortune of having beansoup for supper causing a lot of porcelain in the biffys to become badly pitted. So I suppose that they will up the antie, auntie, or whatever, to recoup expenses. As if this weren't enough, on top of this, some fool made up the asinine rule that we were no longer allowed to use our hands at meal times . You probably recall poor Douglas who lost his right hand four weeks ago in that dreadful powerdrive accident. Well he suffered another setback attempting to cleanse himself after a bowel movement with that new hook he was fitted with. I guess he will be terribly scarred, thank heavens it wont show. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he would have stopped when he first punctured himself, but I guess the poor soul was very embarrassed and had too much pride to call for help. After seventy-two stitches the nurse stopped counting. Stubborn fool, It serves him right. Well try to keep in touch truly yours,