We put the new bed in a year ago — exactly a year ago today.
End of Spring 2018 Soccer
It’s tempting to fall into the obvious reflection: the “so much has changed in a year” cliché. A lot has changed in a year, but the majority of it has changed in the last five months, all starting December 4 with a phone call at around 9:30 in the evening while I was out walking the dog. “Nana is going to the hospital.” And from that moment, it all changed. No one knew just how much it would change, of course. No one has any real clairvoyance in medical emergencies. But here I am, a day past five months after it all started, exactly a year after we put them in, taking out the last vestiges of a garden.
It doesn’t happen often, but every now and then, Saturday work spills into Sunday. We try to keep Sunday as a day for the family, but with the last five months begin what they have, that in itself is a challenge.
Today’s job was simple but critical: deal with the recently created drainage issue at the front corner downspout.
Visions of it seeping through the brick into the now newly created concrete-slab crawl that would offer no outlet at all haunted me, and when the rain woke me at three in the morning, I went to check and found the hack I’d created didn’t work either and set about digging, in a downpour in my underwear and Crocs at three in the morning, a quick trench to direct the water away from the house.
Today, then, was the day to solve the problem once and for all. The first task: dig up the Crepe Myrtle at the corner of the house. That took a couple of hours. Then, the trenching, including a trench under the newly built ramp. Why not do it before they built the ramp? Simply — I didn’t know it would be necessary.
For now, everything is simply laid out and pushed together. I’m far from done and not even sure how I’ll terminate it for effective discharge.
Next, after several hours of digging, I turned my attention back to the yard and the hedges three-quarters trimmed. I’d cut my power cord yesterday and decided to put it off until Sunday — and the torrents of rain that were by then falling didn’t do much to avoid said procrastination.
The Boy for his part was upset and thrilled about it all. Digging is one of his favorite things, and he was disappointed that he missed out on so much of it. Mowing, though, is equally enjoyable for him, and he reached a milestone today: he can now start the mower himself. He ran over the trimmings that remained around the yard, always looking for a reason to turn the mower’s engine off so he could turn it back on.
(The hard rain really did a number on our plants — they’re beaten into submission.)
The final task was indoors: sealing up the entry to the new room. The floor guys are going to be here tomorrow, and the thought of sawdust throughout the kitchen and living room was none too appealing.
Finally, dinner without the girls: leftover soup and a salad. The Boy, being the wonderfully odd eater than he is, was disappointed with the soup (he’s grown tired of all soups, I think) and thrilled about the salad.