Last week I had 7 tons of topsoil dumped in my front yard. Literally, 7 tons. The dump truck got stuck in my front lawn, so the driver and I hung out while we waited for the tow truck to pull him loose. Had the schmuck listened to me and rocked the truck like I told him he would have gotten out, but no. Men.
When the tow-truck driver, aka the boss who I had ordered the dirt from arrived, he laughed. I introduced myself and he said that based on our phone conversation he did not expect me to be holding a shovel. I told him that I called him from work where I were dress slacks and heels and that I spoke to him in my work voice, which is certainly not a shovel holding voice, but now I am at home wearing gym shoes and yes, holding a shovel. How else is the dirt going to get moved and the yard leveled?
After two and a half days of hard labor I succeeded in spreading the dirt around. Several times I filled my wheel-barrel too much and it fell over or the wheel went flat on me. That was very upsetting. Now that it is all done I am very proud of myself.
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