I’m trying not to bitch too much about having to build a fence to enlarge the cow pasture; it has to be done. We are at the beginning stage of the project: the posthole-digging phase. We have an auger, but because the pasture is wet, a lot of the work has to be done by hand with a manual posthole digger. Reaching down into a hole 42 inches deep while trying to grab wet, gooey, sloppy clay with the handheld digger is ridiculous. We’re talking thigh, bicep and shoulder work all rolled into one. Lifting and then setting the 8 foot treated lumber posts was rough too: so heavy and cumbersome! I tried to tell myself that people pay trainers big money to get this type of workout. I was maintaining a smile and decent attitude.
I didn’t even swear or stomp my feet when the auger drill bit snapped off at the worst possible time: all the way buried deep into one of the holes. I was calm and took a tempered approach even though I was dead tired and in need of a break. I shrugged off the fact that this detour was going to add extra time and involve additional muscle to rig up the tractor bucket to retrieve the auger bit. I put on a happy face even though I was aware that the repairs to get us up and running again were going to be a pain in the ass.
After long, difficult and tedious repairs, we were back in business. Steve took his position at the helm on the tractor while I guided the auger drill bit. I could see the proverbial “light at the end of the tunnel”. I was working hard to keep my perspective positive and I was succeeding. But I have a breaking point, no matter how upbeat and “half full” I try to be. We were digging on the last run, near the side yard of the house when it happened……poof…..my cheerful, lighthearted demeanor disappeared in an instant.
We had been meticulous in our planning for this project: We flagged underground power lines and cables and we also carefully marked our underground irrigation system that we installed last spring. We were three holes from being done. Steve revved up the engine of the tractor, dropped the drill bit into the ground, as I took my position standing right over the spot to be dug to ensure the bit went in straight. It never dawned on us that we forgot to mark, and avoid, something VERY VERY important……..……..the septic field. OMFG.
Yeah, the very definition of a shit storm.