I no longer remember when I started this project. But somewhere along the way I decided to put in a new flower bed along the north fence of the front yard. I marked it out with stones and started digging to clear the grass. Halfway through I encountered an obstacle. A trench full of gravel. I have no idea how the trench came to be, but there it was. I decided to try and remove the gravel. Ah, what a fool I was.

I dug. I filtered. I found bits of glass. Even an arrowhead. But the gravel kept coming and I decided it was wider and more pervasive than a man with a shovel and makeshift sifter could handle. So, I stopped. Filled in the hole as best I could. Hauled the recovered gravel to the back lots. And there we sat until this week when I decided to get busy once again. Now I’m laying down landscape cloth as a weed barrier and getting ready to buy some mulch.

Due to my aortic aneurysm, I’m advised that slinging bags of wet mulch as I’ve done in the past may be hazardous to my health. So, I’m going to order it in bulk from a dirt yard just down the road and sling the mulch with a shovel. Lighter loads. I’d whistle while I work but my attack of bell’s palsy a while back robbed me of my whistle and muscle tone in the left side of my face. So, I’ll just have to hum and that won’t even be close to the sound of the men working on the chain gang, but I’ll do my best.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale