owning a house with a yard proves to be a great deal of work, especially when you decide to move a crap-ton of dirt around. i don't have a yard, but i worked in my sister's yard for 4 hours on saturday. we hauled wheelbarrows full of dirt down the hill, dumping it into piles. my sister and brother-in-law had a really great idea to level-out part of their yard, which is huge. they rented a bobcat and dug up giant scoops of black earth to be transported to another part of the yard, where the swing-set would soon be. i litterally chased the wheelbarrow down the steep hill several times, strainging to slow it's gravitational progression. i nearly went head-over-heels into a mound of dirt, turns out i am NOT a good wheelbarrow driver. i helped chop down a small tree with the ax. seriously, that is some HARD work! (sorry environmentalis-types.) after 4 hours, which felt like 4 days, my shoulders and arms ached. i drove home, moving my arms as little as possible. i was exhausted.
as i worked, i thought about how someday when i have a yard and hair-brained renovation idea, how much help i'll be getting. then i thought about the bonus of buying a house with a yard that matched my life-agenda...that sounded like a much better deal.
as a monday morning treat: picture me, leaning way-back, trying to slow the wheelbarrow's natural down-hill momentum. nearing the bottom of the hill, i start to run to build up enough steam to make it up the wood-planked ramp, trying to build the dirt pile high (and minimize it's width). i hit the ramp with a good speed, teetering, I jerk to the right and send the wheel of the barrow into soft sand. i nearly flip over the wheelbarrow, as the dirt comes spilling out to the side. i nearly crashed into the side of the above-ground pool.