Sod

One excuse after another.  Lately there have been a lot of them which is kinda strange considering I've been telling them to myself.  First, it was too cold.  A little later I told myself I'd need a new star bit for the drill so I could remove some really weird screws the last owner used to keep several pieces of wood attached to each other.

They just kept coming.  The chainsaw needs a new chain.  That gate on the cross fence that needs to be torn down is too heavy for one guy to handle.  It's raining.  It's snowing.  It's too hot.  My foot hurts.  Does any of this sound familiar? 

I've never engaged in this behavior before; I've always been ready to tackle the most difficult of tasks with the enthusiasm of a man half my age.  I know this because at one time I was half my age.  Well, I almost know it because I ALMOST remember being half-aged.  But, I got old on April 21, 2001.  That's the day I picked up a three hundred pound valve and wrecked my back.  I've been fighting it for a decade, but now, since I've retired and no longer force myself to keep going, I find myself hoping the hard-work jobs will just go away if I put them off.  That is some serious foolishness.  It doesn't work that way. 

My son-in-law came to visit a couple of weeks ago and his offer of help encouraged me to start the project I've been putting off since it warmed up around this place.  I wanted to get rid of 700 square feet of dog run in my back yard and turn that area into beautiful, lush, green grass.  Shane got me started, and together we managed to get just about half way through the project before it was time for him to leave.

We managed to rid the yard of all unneeded structures and plants, then planted new trees and leveled the area.  Since his departure I've been defining flowerbeds by laying pavers and have hauled off all the trash.  Today, though, was the Day Of Dread.  The newly ordered sod arrived, all 700 square feet of it.  This was the day of reckoning, the one I had been putting off. 

As I write this, all the sod has been placed and irrigated.  The ugly beyond belief dog run has been transformed - it now is a manicured lawn, and my back's screaming in agony.  The hard part is over, and the addition of flowering plants will be pleasurable. 

Not a bad day's work for an old fart.