Digging a Hole

We were outside working in the yard all day yesterday, getting ready for the play structure. After DH got home he fed the kids and put them to bed while I worked on cleaning up the street and the neighbor's driveway where the tractor that brought the structure left traces of dirt.

When I finally came into the house around 8:30, I collapsed straight into bed without even checking e-mail. I have a feeling that as the weather gets better and we're doing more yardwork, I may not be blogging as much.

Digging the hole was an interesting project.

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I had measured out where it needed to go the night before, and marked off an area about a foot larger each way than the base of the little house that would be the centerpiece of the play structure.

DH went in to work a little late in the morning so that he could work with me to help peel the sod off the top and start digging the hole.

Then the girls and I worked on digging it out and getting it level. I told the kids that we were digging for treasure, and the play structure would be the treasure that would end up in the hole. Dirt and kids are a natural pairing on a mild, sunny spring day. They had a blast loosening the dirt in the high places and helping to cart away the dirt I dug up.

There's something deeply satisfying about digging a square, level hole. It takes a kind of craftsmanship that isn't all that hard, theoretically, but does require a good eye and a bit of skill. Taking the time to do anything well is artistically satisfying in a way, even if it's just digging a hole. I enjoyed it.

That's how I felt for the first four hours, anyway. Right about 4 hours and 15 minutes into digging, it stopped being fun and started feeling more like just plain hard work.

After lunch I was ready to get back to it. By then I had most of the bulk of the dirt out of the hole. Since we don't have a wheelbarrow that works, I was carrying the dirt across the yard one shovelful at a time until someone found a big flowerpot. It held 4 or 5 scoops of dirt, so I saved myself a few trips by using that as a bucket.

Getting a hole perfectly flat and smooth with a shovel is easier said than done. I'd check it with the level on a board laid across the hole and one end would be just slighly higher than the other. So I'd shave a little dirt off that area. Then another spot would be just a tad high.

Close to dinner time, I decided that a hole within 1/8 inch of level in all directions would have to be good enough. My hole wasn't perfect, but it was a pretty good hole.

The little house sat on it perfectly, without listing.

Digging a 5 foot square, nearly perfectly level hole felt like an accomplishment somehow. It was a good day's work.

The hole is not something of great importance in the grand scheme of life. I don't think it's something I can ever use on a resume. But it's a good feeling anyway.