Ray’s Actual Rainfall Update - Day 58, DY 2 - Pick and Shovel
The new total is: 0.99" + 0.60" = 1.59".
Yesterday, after I stopped thinking and started doing, or fixed to start doing, lots happened. I was directly included in much of the happenings and not merely a thinking spectator. But before I spell about all those happenings I need to mention that my cinnamon bun vendor went AWOL yesterday leaving me with no choice but to do without. However, the excellence of the mustard greens may eventually off balance that woe.
The rain that fell yesterday, fell intermittently. In between the downpours, I dug another hole. Lately, I have dug a tousand or maybe two tousand holes. Most of those holes were dug for the purpose of getting something out of the hole, but this one was dug to put something in the hole. Can’t get it in, can’t get it out. Got to get it in, but you can’t get it out.
Er. Come to think of it, lately, I have also filled a tousand or maybe two tousand holes, if pots count as holes, which they do.
No matter how much a person like me operates a shovel, not to mention a pick, a part of me never gets use to the work. That part is my lower back. My lower back never gets entirely comfortable with pick and shovel work. The fact is, my lower back wants to quit on the shovel or pick way before the rest of me. If my lower back was entirely in charge of me, few holes would ever get dug or filled.
Yet, holes are generally interesting. No two holes are exactly the same. Consequently, I enjoy investigating a good hole. That hole yesterday, for example, had clay, rocks and a few tree roots in it. But it was an easy hole to dig, anyway, thanks to the intermittent downpours. My methodology was, dig down a ways until the going got too hard, or my back gave out, then excavate all that material out of the hole, go through the excavated material looking for arrowheads, grubs and such, then wait for the next downpour to soften up the next most lower bunch of the clay dirt and rocks.
Lucky for me, I had plenty of time to dig that particular hole. Plus, those intermittent downpours helped a lot. Probably the Blessed WG arranged the timing of those downpours Herself, just to help me.
These days, I deserve help with the holes. Old Math ap Mathonwy has dug no more than me.
Yesterday, after I stopped thinking and started doing, or fixed to start doing, lots happened. I was directly included in much of the happenings and not merely a thinking spectator. But before I spell about all those happenings I need to mention that my cinnamon bun vendor went AWOL yesterday leaving me with no choice but to do without. However, the excellence of the mustard greens may eventually off balance that woe.
The rain that fell yesterday, fell intermittently. In between the downpours, I dug another hole. Lately, I have dug a tousand or maybe two tousand holes. Most of those holes were dug for the purpose of getting something out of the hole, but this one was dug to put something in the hole. Can’t get it in, can’t get it out. Got to get it in, but you can’t get it out.
Er. Come to think of it, lately, I have also filled a tousand or maybe two tousand holes, if pots count as holes, which they do.
No matter how much a person like me operates a shovel, not to mention a pick, a part of me never gets use to the work. That part is my lower back. My lower back never gets entirely comfortable with pick and shovel work. The fact is, my lower back wants to quit on the shovel or pick way before the rest of me. If my lower back was entirely in charge of me, few holes would ever get dug or filled.
Yet, holes are generally interesting. No two holes are exactly the same. Consequently, I enjoy investigating a good hole. That hole yesterday, for example, had clay, rocks and a few tree roots in it. But it was an easy hole to dig, anyway, thanks to the intermittent downpours. My methodology was, dig down a ways until the going got too hard, or my back gave out, then excavate all that material out of the hole, go through the excavated material looking for arrowheads, grubs and such, then wait for the next downpour to soften up the next most lower bunch of the clay dirt and rocks.
Lucky for me, I had plenty of time to dig that particular hole. Plus, those intermittent downpours helped a lot. Probably the Blessed WG arranged the timing of those downpours Herself, just to help me.
These days, I deserve help with the holes. Old Math ap Mathonwy has dug no more than me.
posted by ray pistrum at Sunday, February 17, 2008
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