Working on the wasteland is tiring for this old man. Tilling soil filled with roots, rocks and crap—old concrete, domestic and construction detritus (including lots of broken glass)—is tough. I’m pulling up Salal and Oregon Grape roots that go deep and are strong, and I’m constantly bending to pull them and to lift all my collected refuse into the wheelbarrow. I’m exhausted after only an hour’s work, so I take a short break every hour. But … I see progress being made. It’s slow, but it’s steady.
I think next week, I’ll be ordering the soil and that’ll mean more work. I’ll have it delivered to the driveway where it can be dumped onto, and covered with, a tarpaulin. I’ll have to load up the wheelbarrow with soil, schlep it to the wasteland and then spread it around. I’ll have to do that a hundred times or more. But then, my entire backyard will be done.
The only ‘wild’ part left on my land now, is the land between my front lawn and the road. I’ve left it wild to act as a buffer; it gives me a sense of privacy. I have no desire to landscape that part of my yard, thank God. But one day … you never know.
By 1:30, still early, I was so tired I got Sheba and we went first to the market and then to Rollo Park for a flat, easy walkabout. I felt done for the day. But as each day passes, the wasteland looks better. But today is dark and we’ve already had a few showers so, after a good long stretch of productive days, I’ll get back to my book.
Paula is coming to visit for one night. She’ll be here Sept. 8th, and then Steve arrives on the 12h. Then Beth and Shari in early October.