Dirt

How do you know if you’re an adult?

It’s a question I’ve asked myself a lot over the last few years.
I pondered it during my college graduation, considered it on the day of my wedding, and thought that I needed one’s permission to buy my house. While I’m not sure when I became an adult I do know the exact date that the childhood door slammed shut. April 10, 2009. The day I spent my day off moving a giant pile of dirt by hand. Dirt that I not only paid for but that I was excited to get.
Folks, only grownups get excited about dirt.
And I was excited as a lovely little man named Sid backed up his dump truck and unleashed three yards of dirt all over my driveway. What a thrill to know that it was only 9am and I had the entire day to load and unload my wheelbarrow. For those who have forgotten I have a giant hole in my backyard from a pond. This pond had become a soul sucking abyss and it had to be destroyed. Thus Sid and his dirt.
My plan was simple.
Step 1) Fill wheelbarrow
Step 2) Maneuver wheelbarrow through garage into backyard
Step 3) Empty contents of wheelbarrow into the pit.
Step 4) Repeat steps 1-3
And it was working. Oh sure I had a couple of close calls where my cat like balance nearly failed me (Dropped a bit of dirt in the exact spot my wife parks) but after a couple of hours I was feeling pretty good. The Monster Abyss was dying and the pile was shrinking. Another hour and I was nearly done with plenty of dirt left over. Or so I thought. As I pondered what other projects I could do I took my first steps across my new yard.
Kids, did you know that trapped air under fresh dirt acts just like quick sand?
I didn’t.
(Hey just because I’m an adult doesn’t mean I’m not stupid.)
I dug myself out; made sure I didn’t break my ankle, and then cursed the gods of home renovation.
As I packed the rest of the dirt down I came to the horrible realization that I didn’t buy enough dirt. Worse it was Easter weekend and no one was going to be open to deliver me more.
Crap!
The rest of the day was a blur of cursing, trips to Lowes, and unloading bag after bag after bag of top soil.
But at last I emerged the victory. The Abyss was full(ish) and I hadn’t killed anyone. I consider that a good day.
The lesson here: You can never have enough dirt.

--Schoonaert.