The rain had been falling hard for three days. We needed the water but the ground was saturated, especially the red clay that made up most of the front yard. At least I could stay indoors without guilt of not working the To-Do list. That peace was interrupted by my dental checkup in the afternoon.
There is more to the story than that.
When I got home, a truck and trailer were on the lower end of the lawn on the down-slope of the grade. Stuck. Not something easy to do with a four-wheel drive truck. Trucks do not belong on the front lawn, even when the ground is hard, which this one was not because wet clay is more like peanut butter than hard ground.
Long tale shortened: the young man on his first day working for a stump grinding firm decided to use this afternoon to grind down the three large stumps I had asked to have cut. The rain had let up and he decided it was a good time to get back to work. He was obviously very inexperienced and also did not know about wet clay or slippery or gravity. He also could not turn his truck around so he decided to drive across the lawn instead even though it offered no passage back to the driveway.
That did not matter because the truck began sliding as the trailer pushed. He put it in reverse and sprayed mud all over, digging a hole, and bogging the truck down to the back axle. He managed to roll forward, with the downhill push from the trailer and finally stopped there.
An hour later, his new boss arrived and towed him back uphill and he drove off across a previously undamaged part of the lawn to safety. It was raining cats and dogs again.
After an interesting conversation with the tree-cutting boss, he agreed to repair the damage to the lawn and not charge me the smaller fee for grinding the stumps. That was exactly three months ago.
After many calls to Stump Guy to check on his planned action, I finally got a call from Landscaper Guy who had been contacted by Stump Guy. Landscaper Guy came and looked at the damage and said he would replace the lawn with zoysia grass as soon as he could get it scheduled. Soon. Maybe earlier than that; but certainly soon.
Which was pretty much the same thing he said three weeks later when I called again.
The third call actually resulted in the delivery the following Sunday afternoon of "two cubic yards" of clay sand for the repairs.
Two weeks later, Landscaper Guy said it was too wet down in Orangeburg County for the supplier to cut the sod, so maybe next week. Maybe.
Three weeks ago, I texted Stump Guy and asked if my lawn would be repaired before the ground froze in six more months. He forwarded the text message to Landscape Guy. Landscape Guy called me in a snit and wanted to know why I was complaining to Stump Guy.
"Because you were hired by Stump Guy to repair my lawn. You work for him, not me! I was going through channels," said I.
"I told you I would work you in some Sunday afternoon, when I had time," he responded in an indignant tone."
"And I appreciate that," I said. "It makes me feel real special to be 'worked in' and not have to be scheduled like a regular customer," I concluded.
"I'll give you a call and let you know when," said he.
Two Sundays passed with no word from either of the duo. I was beginning to notice that Stump Guy does not want to talk with me.
Another week passed and I gave up on the expected miracle. Two days ago, I decided to do the work myself, it having become obvious that it was not going to be done by the dynamic Stump Guy and Landscape Guy duo.
Beginning at 6:45 AM, I resurrected Big Red from its dormancy, brushed off the spider webs, and turned its key. The diesel engine started in three seconds with a belch of black smoke and, in two minutes was running smoothly after sitting undisturbed for four months.
The first bucket of clay sand was ready for spreading by shovel to fill the ruts left by truck and trailer tires. The day got warmer as I spread and packed the sand. I quit when the sun was above the trees at 10:30 AM. It was too hot to work in the direct sunshine!
Filling the ruts was time consuming and hot work, but not difficult physically. I finished with the easy part and got to the deeper holes. The clay had dried and was too hard to cut with a shovel.
I leveled the ground as well as I could, using Big Red's front bucket to scrape it down. Four buckets of sand, leveled with a shovel and curried into place with my gloved hands got it back to where I can now plant grass seed.
I spent a lot of mental energy discussing with myself the loss of work ethic, the decrease in the quality of workmanship, and pride in doing a job well. I remember when things like this would have been corrected without even asking. Back around the last Ice Age.
It was only 82 degrees but I was exhausted from the exercise and very high humidity. Too much time sitting at the computer and on Steemit in between too many chores keeps a country lad busy. (I have a beauty of a "to-do" list!)
Oh... I thought the pile of sand looked a little less than two cubic yards. I measured it and it was less than one cubic yard. I could send the photo to Stump Guy to let him know he is going to be overcharged for the sand clay, but I really don't care at this point. Let them work it out. It shouldn't take them more than six or eight months, if ever.
All photographs in the series were made by me, and I retain all rights.
