Saturday, March 21, 2015

March 21 – “Dirt bags”

Another trip into Texas yesterday.  This time it was to have my regular blood test done.  About every three months, sometimes sooner, I have to check and make sure the arthritis medication I take is not eating away my liver or kidneys.  Thankfully, a Quest location has opened up in LaMarque so I don’t have to drive into Houston to get it done.  You would think they would have an office somewhere nearer to UTMB.  I guess they want to do their own blood tests, though.  Give those rookie doctors something else to do. 

On the way home we stopped at Home Depot.  Our target this time was dirt.  Yep.  Just dirt.  See, we have a sinkhole in our back yard and I have been wanting to take steps to fill it in for a long time.  Way back before Hurricane Ike we had a huge pecan tree in our back yard.  The tree did its best to survive the storm itself and the salt water flood that accompanied it.  It even put out some leaves the following year.  But alas, it was just not to be.  We nursed it along as long as we could, but it finally died.  We had one of those tree cutting down specialists remove it for us.  He also ran his machine that grinds up the stump into mulch.  But the machine could only access so much.  Those huge roots remained.  And now they and what remains of the stump itself are slowly rotting away, disintegrating into nothingness and leaving behind gaping holes.  And when those holes collapse under the weight of grandchildren playing or old dudes mowing the grass, the result is a sinkhole.  The big problem now is that it is slowly creeping under the paving stones we used to create our patio.  Can’t have an uneven surface when there are toddlers and senior adults afoot. 

So to Home Depot we went to buy some dirt.  Ten bags of dirt to be exact.  Surely that would be enough, right?  I pulled up twelve or fifteen of the paving stones and segmented out the area of grass under which the stump used to be.  Had to at least save the good St. Augustine that was growing there.  I opened up the dirt bags and dumped them in.  And then came the hard part.  Well, that’s not completely accurate.  By that time I was already exhausted.  But I was determined to push on.  After all, I did way more that this when we created the patio.  And that was a mere, oh, eighteen years or so ago.  How bad could it be?  Chris cheered me on by texting Nathan and letting him know I was in the back yard digging a hole.  Guess she wanted him to be on call in case I developed some “exercise-induced heartburn.”  I assured her that the guys at station four would take care of me.  She didn’t seem too excited at either prospect.

The next step was mixing the new dirt with the existing dirt and then came the leveling process.  I don’t know any other way to do that than to plop down in the dirt and do it one stone at a time.  Time consuming and back-breaking process.  By the time the patio was shored up, I looked over at the hole in the grassy area and sighed.  We probably should have bought another ten bags.  I decided to make the best of it, though.  I leveled it out the best I could and dropped the sod chunks back into place. 

I managed to drag the shovels back into the shed before collapsing onto a chair to enjoy the fruit of my labor by having a cup of water and a chat with my esteemed supervisor, Chris, who, I might add, had sat outside with me through the entire process, wrapped in a blanket and encouraging me.  Best part of the whole project. Now if the whole thing doesn’t collapse into itself when the rain starts today I’ll be happy.  And yes, I am pretty sore today.  No marathons or tri-athalons on tap.

Psalms 9:10 says, “Those who know your name will trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you.”


Father, thank you for the rain.  And for holding it off until I got that hole filled up.  Amen.

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