Tag Archives: flagstone path

On Weeding…

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Call me crazy, but I like to weed.  On my own terms, but still…

A fine crop of weeds had grown up thanks to a fair amount of rain while I was in Wisconsin.  So the other evening, I pulled my camp stool out from under the house, and I got my weed digging tool, and I started in on the weeds that I had actually mowed earlier in the day.  They were thriving between the flagstones of my front path.

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Okay, so perfect weeding conditions:  clear and sunny, a nice breeze, temps hovering mid-seventies, ground nice and soaked, but not muddy.  I had nearly all of those requirements met, and I got going.

Weeding is a mindless task.  It is quiet, except for the sounds of Mother Nature, and maybe a car or two passing by.  It is a job that demonstrates clearly the worker’s  accomplishment. 

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It is an accomplishment that lasts, unlike dusting or making a meal.  The dust reappears almost within minutes.   The meal that took an hour or more to make is gone in twenty minutes, with a pile of dishes, pots and pans, and utensils left to be dealt with.  Weeding lasts, well, at least a week.

I like to think when I weed.  I think of all kinds of things…what materials to use with my tutoring kid, what my folks at the farm might be doing at that moment, upcoming visits from friends, what to wear tomorrow, what to eat for supper.

I weeded my front flagstone path.  I had most of my perfect conditions.  I could see clear results.  Call me crazy, but I like to weed.

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(The green that remains is actually sedum, which I WANT to grow between the flags.)

Summer of Sand…

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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?

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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.

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