According to the calendar, it’s spring. According to the weather? Well, the temperature is up, then it’s down. It rains, it sleets, then it’s sunny, and then it snows. Then it starts all over again. We are in Ohio. Yep, it must be spring.
Remember all the flower bulbs we planted more than a year ago? They bloomed in profusion last spring. First there were crocuses, then jonquils and daffodils, followed by hyacinths and tulips.
They all managed to bloom before lawn mowing season, so they did not fall before the lawnmower blades. Finally, I could enjoy flowers in the yard, and Bill could enjoy his green lawn.
Well, I haven’t seen one crocus yet this year, but it is still early. I believe the daffodils and jonquils are beginning to poke their green leaves out, but I’m afraid the tulips will not make it. No, the lawn mower will not mow them down. The heavy machinery is coming in about the first of April.
After all these years of parking in a driveway in front of the house, we decided to attach a garage to the back of the house. Unfortunately this means a driveway must be constructed at the side of the house where we planted all the bulbs. The bulldozer is scheduled in around the first of April, weather permitting.
First we had to arrange to have an electric pole moved. The pole has set in the middle of the front of that side yard since before we moved here. I never did understand why they placed it there.
We began the project of getting it moved last summer, and it took until last week and a lot of help from our friends, as well as a lot of money, to finally get it moved.
The movement itself provided entertainment for the neighbors and aggravation for people driving by for a whole morning.
Three big trucks appeared one morning and three men, one in a white helmet, one in a yellow helmet, and one with an orange vest. They looked the pole over from top to bottom, and then they went to work.
The biggest truck was parked close to the pole. Then Mr. Orange Vest released a huge six foot drill. They placed the drill on the spot that was chosen for the pole. Less than a foot later the drill stopped. It had run into rocks. Mr. White and Mr. Yellow Helmets dug down and manually removed the rocks.
Again the drill was in place and bored down almost another foot before running into more rocks. Again the guys dug them out. At about two and a half feet they ran into a steel plate. They threw the rocks back into the hole and covered them. They moved over a little bit and began to drill again. And again they drilled a little and then dug a little more to remove rocks.
This time they didn’t run into steel so they kept alternating drilling, digging, and moving rocks until the hole was so deep they couldn’t stand in it and reach down to remove the rocks. Instead they drilled and then laid down on the dirt and reached down to get the rocks. By the time they got down deep enough for the pole, one guy was head first into the hole with the other one holding onto his ankles to pull him back out.
I think I finally understand why they didn’t put the pole there in the first place. Thank heaven for modern technology.
Once the hole was ready, they moved the truck closer to the pole. They put a cable on the pole and began to sway the pole back and forth until it came loose. Then they lifted the pole like a toothpick, moved it over and lowered it into its new home.
Now we await the bulldozer. With a little bit of luck Most of the bulbs might bloom before it arrives, and maybe I can beat the bulldozer to the bulbs. Then eventually we can plant them in the dirt strip we plan to have beside the driveway.
If not, I guess I can buy new bulbs and plant them this fall. Hope and bulbs spring eternally.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This column was first published in the Greenville Advocate March 24, 2004.
