Concrete's Signature

Since May the backyard has been dug-up a couple of times. Experts could have done it all at once. Not us. First it was for the re-do of the pool and a new gas line. Later it was to bury the solar pipes deeper. Then rusted electrical pipes were discovered.

Yesterday we hopefully took our last look at what's under the ground on this side of the backyard. The men arrived Thursday morning with the little Bobcat tractor to fill in the ditches, to rearrange the dirt, to level, to smooth, to ready the ground, and to install drains. They had been here in May to work beside the pool. As they left yesterday, they said, "We'll see you at 6:00 a.m." and they weren't kidding.

I hope our neighbors weren't trying to sleep in this morning. The noise level increased considerably when the cement truck arrived. So did the action. These guys worked vigorously for six hours. They danced on top of the wet cement, on their knees they massage the drying cement, and finally they stomped an image in the cured cement.

Mr. Fun waltzed in and out of the house several times to tell me what wonderful work they were doing. (I gave him the camera to capture it.) He was impressed with the magnitude of their work ethic and with the quality of their product. He said they were artists working on their knees. These guys didn't see much importance in the work they do. Mr. Fun tried to explain to them that all the software and all the Internet wouldn't do us much good if some folks aren't willing to work hard with their hands and their backs to lay the foundations and build the buildings where many of us go to work.

Good night from Southern California.
Rosie & Mr. Fun, aka Carol

P.S. Thank you for all the lovely and interesting comments on yesterday's blip about Grammie's looking glass.