About two years ago, Jon and I decided it was time to have our crumbling front steps redone. The new steps were larger and we thought it would be a good time to cut down the gigantic overgrown shaggy Arborvitae that were dominating the front of our house. So we chopped them down. And left the gigantic stumps in place for another day. Much to the chagrin of our neighbor across the street, that other day didn't come for over a year. Our 'landscaping' out front included two giant stumps and empty spots where the trees used to be. The trouble was, those stumps proved a problem for removal. One day Jon wrestled the north stump free, but ran out of time for the other. So it sat for at least another half year.
Then there was a day this summer where both boys became occupied so I headed out for some gardening. I started by releasing the garden from its cloak of weeds which had developed while we were out of town and then had grown unchecked for weeks. I was surprised to find live veggies still producing under the cover of vines and nettles. It inspired me enough to grab some tools and head to the stump. I swear the humidity that day was 101%. After weeding, I was soaked, so there was nothing to lose when I started whacking away at the stump. I dug, I whacked, I pulled, I prodded. I got minimal movement for my efforts. But there was movement. The only trouble is that I was hemmed in by the new steps. There was no way to get any good leverage. After over an hour I considered throwing in the sweat drenched towel. I was going to let Jon take over when he had a free moment. But my pride wouldn't let me. I needed to finish this job. And let me tell you about the finishing move- it was grand. I got my shovel under the stump and shoved with all my strength. With a surprising snap, the last roots broke free, the root ball was released, and I was thrown off my feet. But what a glorious moment. I lay back on the cement of the sidewalk completely content.
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