Posted by: Kim_Hamilton on 07/06/2009 07:40 PM
Updated by: Kim_Hamilton on 07/06/2009 07:43 PM
Expires: 01/01/2014 12:00 AM
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Welcome to the Country....So You've Decided to Move to the Country Where a Mere Shovel is No Match for What We Lovingly Refer to as "Soil"~by Charity Maness
So you’ve decided to move to the country where a mere shovel is no match for what we lovingly refer to as “soil.” The other morning I was sitting outside enjoying a nice cup of coffee when I thought I heard a small avalanche of pebbles rolling down our back exposed rock hillside. Upon closer inspection I realized a gopher had somehow managed to dig itself a nice hole for its family smack dab in the middle of our rock hillside. This got me wondering, if something the size of a gopher can dig a hole in this rock, cleverly disguised as soil…why can’t Wyatt?.....
As you all know Wyatt has moved me to Tombstone and I have conquered my fear of snakes, coyotes, mountain lions and other varmints. (Not really, but I can pretend.)However, I have yet to conquer Copperopolis soil. At least that’s what they call it here. I had never heard of buying dirt until I moved here, and on this particular day, I was to find out why dirt was such a hot commodity in this interesting neck of the woods or scrub oaks.
One day I get the bright idea that I would love a small tree planted in our front yard, one that when mature could possibly provide a miniscule amount of shade for our modest home. Picking out the tree was a wonderful adventure in horticulture. Evidently we are not an area 8 or an area 9, so my handy dandy Sunset gardening book was absolutely no help whatsoever and was quickly relegated to the job of door stop. Being a wise person I turned to those in the know…Calaveras Lumber was my choice. I learned more about planting what, when and where in two hours than I have ever learned in my life.
Loaded down with my passel of kids, that remarkably enjoyed this adventure mainly due to the constant supply of popcorn, and of course my newly acquired fruitless plum, I headed home excited to be planting my first tree at my new home.
Once home it takes me over an hour to find a shovel because I have two boys that like to dig foxholes and army bunkers in the back forty. Upon finding the all illusive shovel I take aim and hit the mark where I intend to dig the hole for my new tree. I am rewarded with a teeth jarring reverberation of monumental proportions. A few shakes of the head later and the numbness gone from my hands I figure this must be a job for Wyatt.
Enter my hubby. I head indoors to enjoy the wonderful air conditioning on this blistering June day I hear my husband outside, now attempting the impossible feat of digging a hole in Copperopolis, yell out a stream of non mentionable words. I think I can safely assume that he had the same experience I had with the shovel. Again, being an intelligent woman, I pretend not to hear and continue to play scrabble with my kids in my nice cool home. I hear more yelling and more examples of words my children should not repeat. I peak out of the window to see that my resourceful Wyatt has brought out the pick ax. Good thinking.
Unfortunately, a pick ax had about as much of an effect on our “soil” as the poor shovel did.
A few phone calls later to a “local” and my husband was in possession of what is commonly referred to as a “copper shovel.” Otherwise known as, a jack hammer. Two hours later I was still enjoying my air conditioned home and wondering what in the world could be taking Wyatt so long, when he emerged from the front yard, panting, sweaty, and not looking very happy at all. “Hole’s dug.” Was all he said.
Jumping up with joy, the kids and I head out to plant our first tree. We head to the location we have carefully chosen for our precious tree to see a hole approximately one foot wide by one foot deep. Hmmm. This took two hours? With a jack hammer?
I throw a little soil in the hole, cut the roots from the root ball, (a no-no by anyone’s standards) and put it in the hole. We pack a little dirt around it, surround it with some rocks add a little more dirt to cover the roots and call it good. Hoping and praying it would live to see another day. The lady at the nursery guaranteed it to be a hardy tree. We’ll just have to see.
If you look close you can see the critter poking his head out in the center of the photo.
This would be the rock wall that little thing managed to tunnel through, the hole is near the top of the photo. You can see the avalanche of clean “soil.” This wall is approx 10’ high.
Until next time…welcome to the country
www.charitymaness.com
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