Diary of a Geriatric Scarlet: November 23, 2050

Every oldster needs a manservant like Mr. French

When you get old, you start to think a lot about household help. I'm lucky enough to have a manservant, blessed be. When you get achy and doddering, you simply can't be trusted with ladders to grab porcelain on high shelves or to crawl around hunting precious gems that bounced out of your heirloom broach.

I recall once, many years ago, I found a note tucked through the mail slot in our country house. I enjoyed receiving it so much I hung it upon the refridgerator. In childish scrawl, a young lady offered her assistance with yard work. Her rates ran as follows:

If you have a small yard: $3/hour.
If you have a medium yard: $4/hour
If you have a large yard: $5/hour


Such an entrepreneur. Such egalitarian price modeling. The children back then were wise beyond their years.