Now, this wasn’t one of my brightest ideas since we were in the middle of monsoon season here in Colorado, but never the less, I needed to know. I’m a little stubborn that way. Okay, most ways.
It’s kind of like when we explore Colorado. Out hiking all you can think is, “I just want to see what’s over that next hill.” Guess what? It’s another hill, then another, then another. At some point you have to turn back or become Jeremiah Johnson and live off the land.
More holes appeared as we cleared the dirt. All different sizes. Some big enough for my hand.
The lemon delivery was now up to dump truck size. As we maneuvered a back hoe into our small section of back yard, Ron dug and dug as far as the arm of the machine would reach. Then it was shovel time.
|Here's the day I hurt my back. Wonder why?|
To say the least, we have a large hole in our back yard that I’m pretty sure will be there forever. Someday, this is going in one of my books. It’s too good of a Laurel and Hardy routine or maybe Jackie Gleason and ol’ Ralph to pass up.