Stone

The big boys and their toys are here. After two years of chasing down the local stone man, at a time when I had a bit more money in my pocket than I do today, Bobby Carr shows up to square the walls at the entrance to our driveway. As you might know, these projects change with each zephyr of wind. No problem, I'll put such and such a stone in vertically as a cap to end the wall, and I'll crawl along the edge of the property, "you'll be amazed at how much this machine can do" and we'll fill up a day. Well. The day is still a day, as far as I know. But Bobby has been here and away and back again a dozen times in the past three days, usually leaving Steve to fiddle with the excavator, or Billy with the broken teeth. On this third day on the job, the end cap has turned into a pair of returns at the entrance, no end caps, no holes drilled for chain. And Bobby was talking about not marking the stones when he lifts them, but there are scratches and gashes on all of them, so I don't know. Was I not enough in control of the project? I am pretty much trusting in Bobby's eye and experience here. I wonder what The Wife will say when she sees the results? I am wondering, for that matter, what I will think of them later today, when they are done working. I need to go up and say hello to them soon, and check out what they are doing. One thing we have a lot of here is material. There are more rocks here at Stone Pile than almost anywhere, and Bobby says they would cost a fortune to buy. And they are beautiful, huge stones. There is a pile of brush that they have cleared off of the wall which they plan to burn today. I am watching a breeze come up from the north and wondering if this is the best time for them to burn anything out of doors?