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Strong as a small pony, indeed.
I set my alarm for eight so I'd be on time for a new volunteer gig on the other side of Central Park. I ended up dozing in bed for another hour or so, and had to hustle to make it on time for ten, but it was so worth it. We were supposed to be mulching, but since the area needed to be cleared first, so we were on weeding and clearing duty instead. I started out pulling up weeds, moving dead branches, digging up shallow-rooted plants, and after an hour got tired of that and spent the next hour pulling up old tree roots. At one point with an especially deep piece, I joked if we needed to get a Percheron or Clydesdale - then started digging around the roots and pulling them up by hand myself. I'd sometimes use a shovel as a lever to loosen things up, and there was one weird device that was sort of like a nutcracker which got a grip on deep roots to break them in half with the right leverage, and someone put that around some roots and I started pushing against it, just feeling like I was living some propaganda poster art, digging my feet into the dirt to push as hard as I could.
I was scheduled for three hours, but left after two, and rode that high until three. The dirt went through my shoes, past my socks, all the way to my toes, and that right there is how I know I had a great time. Never mind the ability to put forth that raw physical effort and channel it, never mind people were amazed at the dozens of feet of roots I pulled out by hand, never mind all the scratches and shallow cuts I got as battle trophies - mind that I got to work with dirt. Dirt! I joked with the supervisor about knocking dirt off weeds' roots - "Dirt is precious! Please don't take our dirt home!"
And it is. And I've really missed it, and I'm volunteering again next time there's a chance to work with the stuff.
Also, I finally got my hair to stay in a tight dual-hairsticks bun, and got a guy's phone number from his business card, which I'll call Monday as not to seem too eager. So it's been a pretty good day all around.
I was scheduled for three hours, but left after two, and rode that high until three. The dirt went through my shoes, past my socks, all the way to my toes, and that right there is how I know I had a great time. Never mind the ability to put forth that raw physical effort and channel it, never mind people were amazed at the dozens of feet of roots I pulled out by hand, never mind all the scratches and shallow cuts I got as battle trophies - mind that I got to work with dirt. Dirt! I joked with the supervisor about knocking dirt off weeds' roots - "Dirt is precious! Please don't take our dirt home!"
And it is. And I've really missed it, and I'm volunteering again next time there's a chance to work with the stuff.
Also, I finally got my hair to stay in a tight dual-hairsticks bun, and got a guy's phone number from his business card, which I'll call Monday as not to seem too eager. So it's been a pretty good day all around.
no subject
and...
Ayup!
Heh...I didn't even need to click through on the CPC link to know what it was!
Be careful, this kind of work is addictive! I just finished a personal volunteer project to bring 4000 feet of a lost trail (3000 feet was physically impassable, last through hiker was 5 years ago) to a condition where a casual hiker could traverse the section safely and easily.