I have a friend who makes her own ketchup, as it happens, and I brought my niece to visit her one day, now ten or twelve years ago, when my niece might have been ten. This is a very interesting woman, creative on many levels, architect, design teacher, weaver, artist, great cook, designs gardens for elementary schools, on and on. Fabulous small house they remodeled for themselves, abyssinian cats, la la la. Married to a wonderful painter. Oy vey. But then he died. So, even paradise has severe trouble.
I saw my niece last year. Somewhere in the days of conversation she asked, how is the woman who made her own ketchup?