I finally got to the bottom of my pile of sand, measuring three yards. I am not sure what three yards of sand means, but it is a lot of sand. It has taken me two weeks, and thousands of shovels full, but I did it. And as a qualifier: NOT single-handedly, any more than my path was built by me single-handedly. It just feels like I did it all by myself, because I mostly did.
To backtrack…my sister brought me home from Wisconsin. She mostly, along with me somewhat, dug out 160 square feet of sod and clay. Two tons of flagstone and three yards of sand was delivered to my front yard and driveway. My sister went back to Wisconsin. A friend brought his yard man to help lay the flagstone. This yard man also built a 4’x4’ sandbox, and loaded it with sand, which I scraped down to level. That was my help. All the rest was me.
So how did I move the “Matterhorn” of sand that stood blocking most of my drive for two weeks?
I did it just like you’d eat an elephant…one bite at a time. One shovel full at a time, I loaded many a wheelbarrow, and spread it over my flagstone path and every single flower bed in my yard. I created a new flower-area, and I spread sand there. Over the last two weeks, I took a few days off to rest my muscles, but not that many. I scooped, shoveled, scraped, wheeled, dumped, raked, leveled, and did all of that all over again and again and again. It was good work. It is now done. It feels good, and looks good.
Best of all…that damn sand pile is gone, and this summer has a name. Hoo-boy.