I don’t know if it’s the teacher, the oldest daughter, the camp counselor, or simply the control-freak in me, but whichever part, it is safe to say that I prefer planned projects. I’m a planner. I love to plan. To play with possibilities, vision, dream. I “geek out” on it. I’m delighted about our emerging backyard oasis. Patio and garden. But here’s the thing. It was planned. I carefully marked time to transplant flowers, remove old stones, and prepare the ground. My husband marked off the days for digging, packing, bricking. This project fit within the budget of time, money, and energy. For anyone who knows house s you know most home improvement projects are not so tidy or planned. And the reality is I don’t always geek out on impromptu projects.
Our front yard would be an example of one of these impromptu projects. Two months ago, we started to have water pressure problems. Problems I was tempted to ignore because a. the water still worked b. the solution would involve lots of calls c. the problem was an inconvenience and not a crisis. d. I have a history of waiting to respond until crisis moment if the inconvenience doesn’t fit within “my plan.” This time I decided that it would be better to know than not know, ask for help, and respond to the situation before the critical moment. The result has been a replacement of a water line to our house and a front yard that is a mound of dirt. The result means that both the front and back of the house look like an archaeological dig. There’s no hiding the mess. It’s right there for all to see.
I’d be lying if I said my first thought with all of this was, “Oh boy! We get to re-landscape the front lawn.” I’d be lying if I said that were my second thought. But today…nearly two months after the water pressure problem began…I see my front lawn as an opportunity to play in the dirt. To re-create after the handwork of excavation. To spend time enjoying autumn.