Silly Wood chips!
I've been in the dog house for a couple of weeks now - over silly old wood chips. You try to do something nice and what do you get?
My friend LH told me about four weeks ago, how to call the county and get 'free' wood chips. Now she told me she moved all the wood chips herself - in one weekend. So I asked my husband if he wanted some and he did say 'yes'. Well, I called and got them delivered about three weeks ago. It was a HUGE truck and I told them I just wanted half of it. Well, they poured half of it on the grass and it didn't look that big to me. I was happy. They were good hardwood chips and they would work perfectly for my grandsons playground in the backyard.
When my husband got home and saw them and the work involved, I was immediately put in the dog house - which is sometimes my place of choice (lol) - (he doesn't know I have a back door to get in and out of it!) All of a sudden it was my fault, my problem, my bad decision, and so forth. Why did I do it? I don't know, but never again...
Okay, I'll own up to it being a lot of work. He's older, and the other three of us aren't huge helps. We all killed ourselves week one. Then it rained. Wood chips get heavy and stuck together when wet. So that of course made it impossible to work on the second weekend. He was really fussing then so I called a neighbor boy to help us. He helped carry one load down - got dizzy complete with asthma and quit! Well, I started working on the wood chips myself, if only wood chips were pennies - I'd have been a millionaire! There were a lot! My husband wasn't sleeping worrying over them. I was stressing because he was stressing.
I even put a note in the yard offering our neighbors free wood chips.
Well, I got this brilliant idea a week ago. There is a place north of here where (and I mean this nicely) some men from Mexico gather and you pick them up and they will help you work.
Oh my gosh, when I suggested that to the hubby he got even madder. Said he'd just do it himself. Now, I know why he was mad. It was too much work and I should have just had someone do it. BUT it was TOO LATE. You have to do the best with what you have. I also know he HATES to do anything out of the ordinary - to stretch himself.
So, we all went out there again and worked and didn't make a dent. He was so mad at me and I just got a case of the giggles - do you ever laugh when you shouldn't?(lol) I guess I was releasing. I said we HAVE to go get some help.
I realized then, I mean I already knew it, but I didn't know the degree to which he was scared to go do this. He'd rather work weeks and weeks and weeks and get mad at me - then to stretch himself and go with me to get help!
That was sooooooooooooooo incredibly silly and frustrating to me.
Saturday morning I just got up, dressed, and told him I was going to go get help. No, I didn't want to go alone, but I WOULD have. He got up and went with me - grudgingly. Then we fought about two or three men, I said three he said two. I said two won't get the job done, he said maybe not, but that is what he wanted. I said okay, but knew we'd STILL have wood chips left - two men can only work so long. I can't make sense out of that choice.
Now this is the best part of the story. We went there and there were about 50 men just surrounding the car trying to get work for the day. It was heart wrenching to me.
A side note here - that's what is wrong with us Americans - we don't want or won't accept work unless we know how much, how hard it is, how many hours, etc. Well, these men didn't ask what, how much, how long, how hard, no questions - of course they might not have spoken English, but these men wanted to work!
Okay my husband puts up two fingers, three men hopped in. He didn't see that until we were on our way (God does his own work). The silence was bothering me in the car - so I'm trying to make small talk. I asked them when they got out there - 8am or 9am. They said 10 which didn't make sense to me at the time. My husband told me later they were probably thinking I was saying how much an hour! Anyway they worked two hours and we paid them nicely.
By the end of it our neighbors wanted some so we had them bring it over to them. My husbands out there talking to the neighbors real cool and cocky looking - just like this was the easiest thing in the world to do.
We took the men back.
Now even these men, had deep roots. They had to feed their family. No matter what the job was, no matter what the pay was, whether or not we would we bring them back - I mean they knew absolutely nothing, but the fact, no matter what, they wanted to work.
Now how does this equate to roots? My goodness, if you don't push beyond your fears, you will always be fearful! I don't particularly like the fact I have deep roots because that means I've had a lot of hard work to do - but I can't say at this point I'd go back. The roots hold me well.
Hopefully my husband got some roots with this experience.
Why do people mentally collapse? I think it's because their roots aren't deep enough and they just get blown over. When you get to the middle age years - you begin to see reality - and if you haven't got the roots for it - you'll get blown over.
Grow your roots.
Life is not the way it's supposed to be. It's the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference."– Virginia Satir (this is from my angel JAS yesterday and today she just happened (?) to call me from NC on her way to work - she told me I was the 'wind beneath her wings' - well, I hope she knows I feel that way towards her too).
Then I get this email today from another friend - "The last week or two, I've been trying to get some projects done at home evenings and weekends with a handyman. He has been no-show several times so I'm very frustrated because I gave him money to get supplies and I've not gone anywhere because we kept rescheduling. Do you know anyone reliable and reasonable?" Does God have a sense of human or what?
God's Grace Is Sufficient!
Sorry about all the lamenting, just needed to vent.
I'm human too,
PS I'm now out of the dog house, I was never in to begin with! Well, maybe I was in the dog house a little bit to be honest. Rough week or should I say Rolf week?