It is November 2013. There is a pile of rocks fourteen feet high strewn about in the land behind my house. In fact, there are three giant piles of material, strategically placed in opposite corners of the land. One pile is landfill, made up of large rock, rusted mufflers, tree stumps and rail posts. The second pile is fine clay. The third pile is loom, or dirt. There is a rented Bobcat machine sitting between the piles, like a small mouse cornered by three cats. My plan is to build a backyard over downward-sloping land that was previously brush and trees. I plan to spread the piles out over three days and then spread grass seed over the new soil. The grass seed will be the fun part, I tell myself. I have a loose plan, a pile of rocks, a pile of clay and a pile of dirt. Despite the daunting work that lies ahead, I’m energized to begin.
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A Pile of Rocks and a Plan
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It is November 2013. There is a pile of rocks fourteen feet high strewn about in the land behind my house. In fact, there are three giant piles of material, strategically placed in opposite corners of the land. One pile is landfill, made up of large rock, rusted mufflers, tree stumps and rail posts. The second pile is fine clay. The third pile is loom, or dirt. There is a rented Bobcat machine sitting between the piles, like a small mouse cornered by three cats. My plan is to build a backyard over downward-sloping land that was previously brush and trees. I plan to spread the piles out over three days and then spread grass seed over the new soil. The grass seed will be the fun part, I tell myself. I have a loose plan, a pile of rocks, a pile of clay and a pile of dirt. Despite the daunting work that lies ahead, I’m energized to begin.