More Than Six Million

Despite my bruised ribs I rallied today to work on my wall. One day off seemed like more than enough time and the weather is so perfect to work outside I just had to see if I could do it.

Russ had carried blocks down to the wall for me so I got to working on the next two courses. I was able to do that without too much pain, but realized that the wall was getting tall and I needed to do some back filling. Back filling is the least exciting part of the job. It involves me shoveling dirt from my existing garden into the space I have created with the new wall. Think grave digger rather than gardener.

The expanse of the extension means I will have to shovel at least four cubic yards of dirt and then refill that same amount in my old garden. I could just build the whole wall and have the fill delivered and only shovel once, but I fear the wall might fall over if I don’t back fill as I go along. So I am going for safety, even if it means double work.

After three hours of hard labor I called it a day. I am not trying to kill myself and since I am the only person I have to satisfy I can go easy.

The nice thing about working in this perfect temperature is that I am not soaking wet from my own sweat when I come inside so I don’t have to strip off my clothes at the washer and dryer. I came in today and went in my office and just as I was sitting down my house phone rang. For some unknown reason I answered it. A young woman, real life person, said she was calling about my property at my address. Curious about what she want I said, “Yes,” she could continue. She said she had buyers that would like to buy my house for cash. I told her “six million dollars and don’t call me back for a penny less,” and I hung up.

I went upstairs and Russ called to me from his bunny office and congratulated me on the amount of work I had done. I told him then about the six million dollars and he said, “that’s not enough. Shay likes it here.” And foolishly I had thought for a minute he was really valuing my wall building.

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