The posse and possibility

Every joint in my body hurts this morning; my back aches, my knees are creaking; I’m ruined.  It might take a hot shower and six days to remedy this situation but man, am I thrilled with what got accomplished in my yard this past weekend. 

A posse rolled in at the crack of dawn on Saturday – a dream team on a mission, a mission of gigantic proportions.  They came armed with shovels, sledge hammers, wheel barrows and garden gloves. They had saws, measuring tapes and thinking caps. They arrived with a plan.

Fences and decks don’t last forever — we had been pushing ours past its best before date for years. There were sections of the fence that had been repaired so often that the nails just couldn’t hang on anymore.  The sundeck was sliding off the house. The entire yard looked as weary as I’ve been feeling. 

Enter the posse. Over two days the rotten fence was replaced, the sundeck was dismantled and re-figured, the humongous bin which had been delivered to the driveway was filled to the brim with rotten wood and shabby lawn furniture. Gardens were rediscovered and 36 bags of yard waste lined the road for the recycling truck. The crew uncovered the stone pathway at the side of the house that had been hidden beneath a blanket of buttercups and ivy. The yard was transformed. 

Everyone worked like parole depended on it.  They were paid with gratitude and hotdogs and stale doughnuts(and some beers and wine). There was much laughter, some head scratching and a lot of talk about the olden days and the guy who built the original fence, the deck and dug the gardens, who collected the stones for the path and placed them. He was part of every conversation, his essence was in every corner, his spirit was in the enthusiasm and commitment of the workers. He would have loved the transformation, the posse and the project. 

Grass doesn’t go to seed overnight nor do gardens go to weeds – it has been years since our yard has been a priority.  That posse made short work of those years. But the posse did more than that – they restored in me a sense of family, they leaned into work and I leaned on them.  I might be achy today but it’s a muscle ache, good ache. Because of that posse I can see possibility again and tomorrow looks a little brighter.