Rock On!

I love looking at houses with beautiful landscaping – where everything “fits” together: trees, shrubs, rock walls, maybe a small fountain in one corner of a yard. And I’ve always thought of myself as a kind of amateur landscaper/gardener. I am very good at digging a hole in the ground and tossing pampas grass in it with ease. I’ve also spent many hours in a friend’s field digging up rocks to use in my yard while keeping an eye out for an occasional snake or bull that might consider me a disturbance to them. Foolish woman.

So when my daughters suggested that we landscape my new home, I felt quite confident that I could dig, pull, mulch and plant without a single problem. Foolish woman.

As we began to design a layout for our landscaping, we were pleased to find a large number of huge, flat rocks around the house already. They would be perfect for our plan. Morning turned into afternoon as we moved rock after rock to their strategic positions in the yard. “Wow!” I thought. “How easy is this!” Foolish woman.

“One more rock, Mom,” my youngest daughter called. “Just one more big rock and we will be done with the main part.” That’s when I saw it: a big rock, yes, but perfectly smooth and shaped with rounded corners and a pointed edge. I could tell that it was heavier than any of the others I had carried but I had my “Tuff Stuff” gloves on and knew I could handle it. Foolish woman.

The minute I strained to pick up the rock, my mind told me I was in trouble but it also neglected to encourage me to put the rock down. It DID come down…with its full weight on the index finger of my right hand. Can I ask you – have you ever had pain that was so excruciating that you wanted to curl up in a corner in a fetal position, rocking and sucking your thumb? If so, then you understand how I felt at that moment. It didn’t help that blood was soaking my “Tuff Stuff” glove nor did it help that my other daughter said “Do you think you can get that cleaned up so we can finish?” As I hurried to the house to survey the damage, it occurred to me that “Tuff Stuff” gloves are not. Foolish woman.

Three weeks after the landscaping was completed (beautifully), I found myself in the doctor’s office because the pain in my finger had not gone away. “I’m thinking that maybe a piece of the rock has gotten under the skin on my finger,” I told him. As he checked out the damage, he glanced at me and his look said it all. “Your finger is broken.” Yes, you guessed it. Foolish woman.

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