Contains material some readers may consider inappropriate for discussion in a public forum.

 

Thank Goddess, it's that time of year again.

Planting Time.

Time to frig in the fields to make the crops grow.

Gentlemen, don't forget: onto the ground.

That's just how these things are done.

 

Of course, such love isn't just for Planting Time, harvest, or taking seisin (buying land).

It's also for funerals.

Seriously.

That's why we send the young couples out during the grave-ale to spread their cloaks on the new grave.

It's a rebirth thing.

 

Pouring the seed libation is an ancient, time-honored ritual.

If ever you've wondered about Beech Buchanan's enigmatic tombstone inscription, well: there's your explanation.

And that's why we need our own cemeteries.