The ground has been broken and that makes me happy!
I didn’t know what to expect when it came to getting the grass off the ground and the garden full of dirt. Options included the back-breaking pick-axe and shovel (sounded hard), hiring someone to rototill (sounded expensive), or finding a plow (sounded impossible).
Uncle G told us it would be easiest to find someone with a plow, though I don’t think he thought we could actually do it. Sister looked at me–I looked at Sister–and we knew that we knew someone who would have the answer.
So Sister texted Bill to ask if he knew anyone with a plow and he–being Bill–ended up in our yard the very next evening with a giant backhoe and a friend named Tom. They also bought a manual post-hole digger and an auger.
Earlier that day…
Me: Sister, we need to find something to dig holes with for fence posts
Sister: Like what?
Me: I don’t know. Google it?
Sister (after Googling): …is it…an auger?
Both of us: What IS an auger, anyway?
Knowing that Bill was coming meant that I had to CHOOSE A LOCATION.
Look, on the best of days I might be able to make a decision quickly. On all other days, I find decision-making tough. I start to think, and over-think, and over-think the over-thinking and before you know it, a lot of time has passed and I have thought of many an eventuality–all increasingly farfetched–and have paralyzed myself. I worry about disappointing people, I worry mostly about making the WRONG choice, or somehow making a decision that is less than perfect. I have operated for a long time on the assumption that there is always one right choice and everything else is a mistake or wrong. I am working on changing that perspective, but Rome wasn’t built in a day (neither is this garden). I am working on thinking that if I put the garden in the back right corner where there is a little too much morning shade or the back left corner or on the side of the house or not…I am learning that there might not be ONE right answer.
I asked everyone for their thoughts because I was panicking a little bit.
I asked Aunt W and Uncle M, I asked their neighbor who I’d never met before, I asked Aunt S and Uncle G, I talked to Sister, Mom, Dad, Brother 1 and Brother 2, I asked Cousin A and and I asked and I asked and finally I arrived at a decision, which was mainly because there was a giant backhoe in the driveway when I got home. Ha.
I think part of this process is learning to trust my own judgment. Maybe my own decision making is just fine.
I am pretty happy with where the ground was broken.
- We staked out a 15×20 foot plot
- Bill brought the backhoe around to the side of the house and operated it like he does it every day of his life
- The backhoe peeled the sod back kind of like an ice cream scoop and soft ice cream. It was so effortless.
- Bill broke the sod up, patted it down, tore it apart, and scattered it. If Bill operated one of those toy-cranes at an arcade, I bet he’d get every stuffed animal in the case.
Meanwhile, I continue to adjust to people who have a sense of humor. After more than a year in the Netherlands, where sarcasm is wasted, there has been more than one interaction like this:
Me: It was good to meet you, Tom. Thanks so much for coming over!
Tom: Actually, my name is William.
Me (flustered): Wait, seriously? That’s awful. I’m so sorry. I thought your name was Tom. Oh man. What a disaster. Unbelievable. This is so awkward. And Claire just asked me what your name was and I told her it was Tom. Oh gosh. Oh dear. Here, you know what? Take my wallet. Actually, just take the house.
Bill: His name is Tom. He was just joking.
As Bill operated the backhoe with a truly inspiring amount of dexterity, Tom chatted with me and Sister about his wife and how she died, how he came to know the Lord, and lots of little fun facts.
Tom: The round stones are called Cobbles. Or Cobs, if you’re in the stone business.
Me (points to big rock): Oh. What’s that one called?
Tom (looks at me out of the corner of his eye): That’s called a rock.
Finally, they brought around the auger and got to work. First they thought they would drill 14 holes, but the auger is tough, and then it was 12 holes, but the auger is really tough, so then it was 10 holes.
Holes which ended up needing some work, but that’s a post for another day.
Basically, this particular experience taught me to continue to ask for help and also that everything is easier when you have community and some friends who are willing to hop on their backhoe with another buddy and drive it a few miles up the road and park it in your lawn and break up the sod for you.
I have also learned what an auger is.