Jul 08
29
Yard Duty
Posted by Stephen29
Tags: chores, family, outdoors, staying together, summer
We’ve spent all summer watching the hedge grow up and out. It has been the kind of thing that inspires the following conversation:
- “We should really trim the hedge.”
- “Mm hmm. It’s getting a bit long, isn’t it.”
- “This weekend, then?”
- “No, we’re busy.”
And so the weeks pass. Spring was dry and so the hedge got a late start on this year’s growth. Finally Debbie complained that she couldn’t get the mower through the gate into the back yard. And I realized that the gate itself was on a lean because of pressure from the hedge. So yesterday and today I worked at trimming the hedge.
We have an electric trimmer with a 22-inch blade. The electric part means it’s quite light and manageable. The 22-inch part means I have to lean way out to reach the middle of the hedge, while barely holding on to the very end of the handle with my fingertips, while standing on the top of a ladder, which is wobbling on uneven ground. All of a sudden the trimmer isn’t so light any more. The hedge is large and imposing and looks pretty solid, almost solid enough to lean on. But you can’t. It’s just twigs and leaves (albeit a lot of them).
I finished trimming about three quarters yesterday before the encroaching dusk brought out the vicious mosquitoes. By then my wrists had turned to rubber from the vibrating trimmer, my shoulders and back were burning from supporting my body as I leaned out, and there were permanent grooves engraved in my shins from where I leaned against the edges of the metal ladder, trying to get some leverage to prevent me from pitching face first into the hedge. Later that evening I had to hold my coffee with both hands to keep from spilling it, I was shaking so much. I had to use one hand to push against the elbow of the other arm to muster enough strength to wash my hair in the shower. You can probably deduce that sitting in front of a computer every day doesn’t develop a lot of upper-body endurance.
Today was much better. I was still somewhat sore, but had no problems finishing off the rest of the trimming.
I pulled out the wheelbarrow, much to the boys’ delight, and started gathering the clippings to trundle off to the compost pile. Daniel immediately wanted to help. As I raked clippings into big piles, he’d dive into the centre of the pile with his arms outstretched and grab as much as he could. Dump into the wheelbarrow. Repeat. Admirable energy and enthusiasm, especially considering the scratchy, poky nature of the clippings. There were a couple of problems with his method, though, the main one being that his goal of getting the biggest armload possible meant that I had to rake a new pile after every attempt. About a quarter of the clippings he picked up ended up strewn around the wheelbarrow. And diving into the pile didn’t help keep it together either. The other problem was that the clippings were not being laid (semi-) neatly along the main axis of the wheelbarrow. Half of them ended up lying across the wheelbarrow, the ends hanging over the sides. The wheelbarrow barely fits through the width of the gate on its way to the compost pile, and I could envision the protruding ends catching against the gate and the whole lot coming off as I tried to push through. The problem was that Daniel just wasn’t doing it properly. As the pile on the wheelbarrow grew above his head things just got worse.
What to do?
Daniel was excited to be outside helping Dad. He was earnestly trying to do a good job. He derived satisfaction from seeing the load grow on the wheelbarrow. And (this was the crucial point) he kept at it. I decided I’d rather encourage him to help in the household work, draw him in, praise him for his efforts. Why should I be the only one privileged to work on the hedge?
We were halfway around, several barrow-fulls along, before he wearied of the work and decided to have a break. Much to my relief. Now I could rake faster, load faster, dump faster, be done sooner. But for twenty minutes my four-year-old son and I worked side-by-side toward a common goal. I didn’t care if it was taking longer to clean up the clippings. We were cultivating a family.
Joel ran out to join in the fun, despite Mum yelling, “Joel! Stay inside!” Selective deafness. All my children suffer that affliction. Easy-going Joel picked up a couple of twigs, decided that it was too much like hard work and happily left it all to Daniel. He followed us around while we worked, cheerfully chatting non-stop. Cultivating a family.
Micah, sadly, couldn’t reach the latch on the door and had to be content with wistfully gazing through the screen at all the fun his brothers were having, helping Dad. His turn will come, but it must be tough being the youngest in the family.
I didn’t pick up the clippings along the back of the hedge. We can’t see that side from the house (out of sight, out of mind) and once again the mosquitoes were coming out in full force. I was done for the day.
In retrospect, I’m glad the boys came out to help. It’s a lot of extra effort to channel their energy and the “real” work slows down. But I’ll cherish the memory of the time we spent together much more than the back-breaking drudgery of the actual work. The memory of togetherness, of family.
