Blake and I took turns distributing soil around the yard. (You'll notice I'm calling it "soil", not "dirt". I don't think you pay $13+ a ton, at 80 tons, and just call it "dirt" - you now give it the fancy title of "soil" and know it comes with good stuff built in, like micro-organisms and such...).
Brett supervising big piles of soil...
Most of the time we were all too busy to take pictures, so here you see the well distributed topsoil, intermingled with the clay. We continued to work them together, using the tiller attachment, the soil conditioner, and hand raking (the hand raking was mostly to get rocks out).
Hey - what's this long cable that Blake fished out of the side yard?! Hey - why isn't our phone working!?!? The phone company had never bothered to bury the cable, even after two months of us living here. We were real careful about moving it for the first few passes along the sideyard with big tools, but ... oops! ... Blake got it with the tiller!
Sometimes it was hard to imagine that this would all look like a new, beautiful green lawn someday.... It just looks like...dirt. BTW - that's 10 bales of straw in the trailer out on the street. We weren't looking forward to that part of the project, even though it represented the "end" of the installation.
Linda and Marty brought us a bar stool....Tucker instantly fell in love with it. Those're my sexy legs you see out the back door.
My back side - working my ass off raking out rocks!
My front side. My very sweaty, very cranky, very sore, very tired front side, giving Brett the look of death. Ooooor I'm looking like I'm about ready to have a "Let's Get Physical" dance-off with Olivia Newton-John! (Ok, make fun of me all you want, but over the last few years I've started sweating like a pig when I get overheated, and I can't see when my eyes are burning from sweat - so if I'm playing racquetball, OR apparently installing a lawn, I need a sweatband. I blame genetics and dad!)
So, um, remember I said to remember that painted orange line across the yard the day before? Well, here's a hint - see how Marty appears to be sitting in a deep hole? Yeah. Well. We'll come back to this...
In all fareness, Linda didn't just ensure we didn't tear through the cable line (hey, after the phone cord was chewed up, this stopped being a joke!). She also kept us well fed several times a day, managed to keep the loads of dishes going as fast as we could make messes, AND cleaned our downstairs up to the point where we realized it was, well, pointless. We were bringing dirt/dust in faster than she could keep up with it, so I told her not to stress over it - Brett and I just did another clean up once we were all done and everyone had left.
If you've heard stories from us, or ever seen the blog before, you know Tucker's got some odd obsessions. One is his NEED to "make out" with people. And he REALLY likes hot, sweaty people. If I come home from the gym, I'm fair game. Here's Tucker putting the moves on Blake...
This might look cute. It's not. It hurts like hell!
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