He Is My Rock

 Yesterday was my husband’s birthday.  Now you would think that he would want to do something special like go out for a meal, spend time with friends, and play a round of golf?  OK, maybe not golf, that’s not his style.  Actually, most kinds of recreation are not his style if his work isn’t done.  I actually think that Don’s relaxation IS work!

I just wish it was mine too.  Don’t get me wrong.  Don is the most honest, loyal, and kind person I know.  He is a regular Eagle Scout.  As a matter of fact, he IS an Eagle Scout!  He has the highest moral values.  But it is his work ethic that stands above all.  

When I asked him what we were going to do for his birthday, he said “rake rocks”.  Oh boy!  I couldn’t wait.  (Not)  He gets these visions and sees things or projects the way they need to be fixed, done, built or cleaned up.  He spent all day the day before raking and digging rocks while Grandma and I were in town.   You would think he would be ready for a day off.  It was his birthday, after all.

 

So we dug and raked rocks, for hours.  We are both trying to lose some of our winter waistline and he is much better at discipline than I.  Our property it appears, and we have been told is famous for, seems to grow rocks.  They pop up out of the ground like flowers.  Since we have been building our home and the infrastructure that goes with a home, we have acquired quite a crop this year. The rocks stick out of the ground just high enough to turn an ankle, destroy a lawn mower or just be in the way.  

I also have to say that I like rocks.  It’s a genetic thing as my mother is a fan of rocks too.  We’ve been picking up and checking out and keeping rocks for our entire lives.  We love how they sparkle or their shape or how each one is different from the next.  I also collect heart shaped rocks.  My mom and I are also known to buy rocks.  When we moved, I had to bring some of my collection that I couldn’t part with due to their sentimental value.

 

But I digress.  Yesterday’s rocks, the rocks of NEWA are of the river variety.  They are mostly round, cobble type rocks of various sizes, from the small, gravel style to the 50 lb. boulder.  When you are bringing them completely to the surface, you do not know exactly what you are going to get.  That’s where the pick comes in handy.  You pick at the dirt and pull at the rock and it pops right out of the ground OR it stubbornly doesn’t budge.  Then you pick some more, and more, and more until you can bring it to the surface.  

Here begins the process of carrying the larger rocks to a ‘pile’ for later disposal or to a designated ‘wall’ we are creating just to find a place for them.  The smaller rocks get raked into the pile for disposal also.  We haven’t decided where our disposal will be, but just the act of lifting and raking rocks and filling holes is a back breaking, effective weight loss program, not to mention carrying the bigger ones around.

I am sure this is not my ideal way to spend any day, much less my birthday, but my husband IS a rock.  He has the stamina to do this kind of work for hours on end and won’t quit until the job gets done.  This is wonderful in some ways, having such a project-conscious husband.  When the day and the work is done, he is happy to sit down with a beer and enjoy the results of our labors.  Plus he motivates me to get things done.  

I do have one question though.  Does anybody want some rocks?