At least that is the newspaper headline I picture when I am lying aching in my bed at night. Actually, it is not anywhere near single-handedly. I have had a lot of help, just not consistently.
My sister brought me home last week. As I have reported in past posts, she is a dynamo, and can do anything. For three years, I have been talking about building a walkway from my front door to my driveway. I guess Anne was sick of hearing about it, because we had barely got the car unloaded and the cat picked up, when we had made our first of several trips to the Ace Hardware. There, I purchased a flat shovel, a wheelbarrow, landscape fabric, and some gutter/drain/plumbing stuff for another of her projects for my house.
In one day, we shoveled and moved 160 square feet of sod and that good old Carolina red clay. We lined it with fabric cloth, and then…then my sister left me, and went back to Wisconsin. Oh. She also left me with two tons of flagstone piled in my front yard. It looked like this:
Now what was I gonna do? And three yards of sand came later that same afternoon. See what faced me? Scaaary. But I persevered, and began shoveling and smoothing, as per my instructions by text message. Hoo-boy.
Fortune shone down. One of my friends looked at my dilemma, volunteered his yardman, and in three short (uh hem) hours, the flags were puzzled in, the pile of stone was depleted, and I had the nearly-completed walkway of my dreams.
The last few days, I have been moving sand from the mountain in my driveway. It is like a plate of spaghetti, the more that goes out, the bigger that pile of sand seems. Nevertheless, things are progressing. I have one more accomplishment to tick off, and the path really classes up the place. I’m feeling pretty good about the whole experience (see headlines), and I am thinking, my sister isn’t the only dynamo in the family that can do anything.