My hometown is a little mountain enclave way above a reasonable altitude that ends up spreading a LOT of grit on the roads to combat snow and ice. Over the year

My hometown is a little mountain enclave way above a reasonable altitude that ends up spreading a LOT of grit on the roads to combat snow and ice. Over the years, that grit had turned into unsightly berms lining the highway. The highway department began scraping up this grit and trucking it to the landfill. The cemetery caretaker saw this and said, "Hey, I always need fill dirt. Why don't you drop off a load or two with me!" And they did so. And this dirt has been used to backfill a number of graves, including my grandmother's. Now, she was a salty old woman in her time, but her time ended nearly a decade ago... but there's still no grass that will grow on her plot. Oops. :)