This morning I started to dig a hole for the cherry tree I bought on May 14, 2012 at Colonial Gardens in Phoenixville, Pennsylvania. The ground is hard and full of rocks. I thought I would never be able to plant trees in my yard. The task seemed impossible. When I had tried to put the shovel in the ground last week only the tip went in. For the past two days I have been soaking the area with the garden hose to moisten the soil. This morning as the sun rose I dug out the top layer of grass. I placed the clumps of grass to the side and soaked the soil again.
During the heat of the day, I went with friends to Philadelphia to see the Liberty Bell, Independence Hall, Betsy Ross’s House and Benjamin Franklin’s gravesite. After pizza in my backyard in the cool of the evening I went back to the hole. The shovel only went in a few inches when I put my foot to the back of the shovels blade. I used a pitchfork to loosen the stones cemented in the clay. I put the hose back in the hole and dug around with the spokes of the pitchfork until the soil was softened.
The cherry tree will go in the ground tomorrow. There are only a few more inches to dig. The sun was already on its way to China, and I couldn’t see to finish digging. When I put the shovel and pitchfork in the garage, I remembered the wasp nest under the rain gutter. I extended my telescoping painting roller handle to twelve feet and knocked down the wasp nest from the rain gutter. As soon as the wasp nest landed on the ground I stomped on it and several wasps with my boot.
I put on my vibram five-finger walking shoes and put a leash on Martha, my dog. The tree will wait until tomorrow, only one more day to live in a black pot. I didn’t want to quit digging. I wanted to put the cherry tree in the ground today. But I did promise Martha a walk tonight.
The wasp nest needed to be knocked down before the wasps build too many rooms and had too many tenants. The nest I stepped on was the size of an apricot. It was small enough to fit under my boot. When I catch bad attitudes in my life, I need to get rid of them before they take root and I become permanently crabby. Bad attitudes the size of an apricot are easier to get rid of. Watermelon bad attitudes are harder to step on.
Mud on my knees, dirt under my fingernails, and a plastic bag for the dog.
Living life a little dirty, digging holes a little bit at a time, stomping wasps before they bite.
Living life imperfectly. Mud is only wet dirt. Never too busy to walk the dog.
