Hauling Rocks

Last month Marathon Girl and I tore down a large dog run the previous owners had built. Tearing down the fence was the easy. The hard part was figuring out what to do with the gravel that filled the run. The dog run was large -- about 10 feet by 10 feet -- and the half inch sized gravel was about a foot deep. Since we tore down the fence, we've been telling our neighbors that they're welcome to have as much gravel as they want. Neighbors have come and hauled away about quarter of what was there but there was still a lot of gravel remaining. Fortunately one of our neighbors, an older couple, asked if they could have some to line part of their yard. We were thrilled to give them most of what was left. So Saturday I spent several hours hauling gravel from our yard to theirs.

It felt good to do hard, physical labor in the sun. It felt good to sweat and use my muscles to load the wheelbarrow one shovelful of gravel at a time. There's something about manual labor I find refreshing and invigorating. I love putting in a hard day's work and being physically tired at the end of the day. The aches and pains that accompany it, make make me feel like I've really accomplished something.

Aidan enjoyed helping his Dad. He followed me as I pushed the wheelbarrow from our yard to the neighbors and helped me load the wheelbarrow one handful of rocks at a time. Sunday morning he woke up and asked if we could "move rocks" again. I tossed his hair and told him once someone wanted the rest of the rocks, he could help me move them.

I love that kid so much. I am still amazed at times how much I love him and his brother. I can't imagine life without them. And I can't imagine hauling gravel without my tow-headed son following me from yard to yard, doing his best to help. Life feels so complete with my kids. I feel so blessed to have them.