Happy Anniversary to Us

Our 30th wedding anniversary is Tuesday. I asked the husband, “Where did the time go?” and he said, “We were busy with projects.” I suppose that is true. This anniversary seems even a bit more momentous than the 25th anniversary, for some reason. Perhaps it is because of everything else that has happened this year.

We bought ourselves a present. The husband wants you all to know that this is not what he intended as an anniversary present, but the timing was right and I thought it would make an entertaining blog post. Pearls are the traditional 30th wedding anniversary present. We did not buy pearls.

Our daily porch debriefing sessions often include long-term planning and wish lists. The husband will mention that he’d like to buy or build something, and then one day, that thing appears. (I can always tell when he’s going to start building something when the can of orange spray paint—for marking lines—comes out.) As long as I am comfortable with the financial end of the project, I just go along for the ride.

The husband recently did a commercial job for a client he’s had for many years. We were eating dinner one night last week when he pulled out his cell phone and showed me a picture. “They have this for sale,” he said. “Let me know what you think.” The price was right and he thought it was a good deal, even though the item in question needed some work. I printed the check for him and on Friday morning, this arrived at our house:

We bought a backhoe! Cosmetically, it looks like it has been rode hard and put away wet, but the machine itself is sound. It’s about 3o years old—how appropriate.

The husband pressure washed the mud and rocks off it yesterday and started working on it. New tires are in order, for sure, along with a few other things. The resident seamstress thought she might have another project:

However, I had a hunch and checked the internet this morning. We can get a replacement seat for $139, which is probably less than it would cost me to make one.

Two little boys in the neighborhood are very excited about the backhoe. Both of them came over to see it yesterday. (I am convinced there is a gene on the Y chromosome for this fascination with heavy equipment.) I am excited about the backhoe too, but only because it means I won’t have to haul chicken manure to the garden in a wheelbarrow.

And just for giggles, we’re also the proud owners of a roller:

The client threw this in because it doesn’t run and he wanted it gone. I asked the husband if we were going into the road-building business. He said he’ll get it operational again and then maybe we’ll sell it. Or maybe we’ll build roads. (There is a libertarian joke in there for those of you paying attention.)

Lastly, the seller also has a bunch of industrial shelving that came out of K-Mart when it closed last year. The husband is getting some of that for me to store my sewing machines on in the old garage.

All in all, I think this is an excellent anniversary present and far more useful than a pearl necklace.

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In between watching two little boys check out the backhoe, I worked on the garden all day yesterday. I put cardboard down around all my berry bushes, which I hope will be far better at controlling weeds than me getting in there and pulling them. I took down the hoops that were over the corn. I transplanted more lettuce. The section for the tomatoes is all ready for planting.

Today—which is supposed to be even warmer and sunnier—I plan to mulch the potatoes, put chicken manure around the corn, and get the rows ready for planting beans. By next weekend, the highs are forecast to be well into the 80s.

I am pleased with how the garden looks so far this year. It’s a lot of hard work, but I enjoy it.