Say that my mother-in-law brings dirt, in large boxes, to one of her daughters. These are heavy boxes, very heavy boxes like the ones reams of paper come in. Filled with moist earth intended for gardening.
There are three boxes. Young men, two grandsons carry two of them.
The third box is carried by two of the sons-in-law, together. And even together, these are heavy boxes. Old (well, thirtysomething and fortysomething) men know their limitations, and know to protect their backs.
The young might not have learned this lesson yet. Or maybe they’re just stronger!
(See also: Posts That Might Be)
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[…] I kept asking if I could bring some home but they just gave 3 huge boxes to my sister and her husband and you can only spare a few hundred pounds a year, yo. But, I better be next! I just want my tomatoes to taste as good as my Dads. Oh ho ho yum! I think it’s the iron in the soil. And, they sent me home with tons of delicious nutrients and treatments for our soil. No real complaints here. Thanks, Mom and Dad! […]
[…] For all the highlights, go read Joe’s blog. He’s been writing up a storm about Ty’s vomit, the cherry blossoms, how awesome the dirt from southern Utah is, that he likes to bet the boys, hiding Easter eggs and what Zion means. […]