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Making a mole hill
You wanna know what I did this Labor Day weekend???
I turned a weed infested hill with a slope that would require Runaway Truck signs in Colorado into this:
The Boy actually started the project on the 4th of July, and up until yesterday, the front yard had been the eyesore of the neighborhood. All of the dirt The Boy removed to make way for the stone wall was piled on the curb and hidden under nasty black plastic. The hill itself was covered under nasty black plastic for awhile, too. The stone to build the wall was thrown on the hill and was sitting on the stairs up to the house. All of this for two months. Two looong months. Two embarrassing months. So when I chided The Boy on Saturday with a "When you gonna finish that hill?" and he struck back with something to the effect of "easy to sit in judgement when you don't do any of the work," I sprung into action. No one tells me I can't do something...
Dad, how do I do this?
Dad, I think I need that stone there, but it is really heavy.
Dad, that's one is heavy, too.
For the record, I worked on that hill for four and a half hours by myself with instructions only from my dad. Then he and my mom came to save the day and helped build the tall part. I failed in spatial relations, and just couldn't figure out that curvy part. But the low lying three stone ledge was work of my own two hands. My back fucking hates me.
So I hurt. All muscles hurt. All of them. Need beer. Woo! Two minutes until I light the grill for yummy sausage and steaks. Swwwwweeet. Later dudes!
4:55 p.m. - September 06, 2004
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