The Unfortunate Incident

I got myself in a little bit of a predicament this week. Shocking right? I’ve written about how I renovated my basement last year after my Dad died and now this summer, I completely redid my backyard. The house was looking great and I thought I was done – I really did. Then on Tuesday as I was edging the grass alongside the driveway, a small chunk of the driveway popped off with the edge of the shovel. Uh oh. The Unfortunate Incident had begun.

Now by no means is my asphalt driveway anything special. It’s as old as the house and is groovier than a Donna Summers’ disco track. It’s full of cracks and the weeds growing up drive me crazy. It’s also very unsafe and one of these days someone is going to turn an ankle and I’ll be getting a lawsuit in the mail.

When the chunk came out, it started a chain of events that I hadn’t been planning. Yes, I could have just tried to put the chunk back in the spot. I’m sure it would have fit. Then I could have walked away, leaving it undisturbed until another time, that’s what most normal people would do. But normal and I aren’t always on the same page. I tend to go against the grain more often than not, not because I like to be different but because I generally can’t help myself. I blame it on my excessive curiosity.

So when that piece popped out, there was no way I wasn’t going to take my shovel and see if the piece beside it came out too. And the piece beside it and the piece beside it. Next thing you know a large swath of my driveway is now in a pile and I have to make a decision. Do I just fill the spaces with some stones that I have kicking around or do I go all in and start a ginormous physically intensive, time consuming driveway renovation?

I think you know the answer.

Of course, I picked Door Number Two! Surprise, surprise. So now I’m all in and a quick check of the Weather Network shows me I’ve picked a super time to do a very labour-intensive job (insert heaps and heaps of sarcasm here). Temps in the high 30 degrees Celsius. Perfect! (insert more sarcasm here).

I hardly slept Tuesday night as I was trying to figure out what I was going to do. I have a fairly large driveway and had a few quotes in the past to replace it – all around the $15,000 range. Not happening! I can think of a fifteen thousand things I’d rather spend $15,000 on than an asphalt driveway.

Besides, I don’t like the look of them when they are so black and it just wouldn’t go with the rural vibe that my suburban house has going on. And, I’d need to call a company and book it, and there’s no way it would be finished before my Covid-19 re-scheduled birthday bash the second week of September. Therefore, whatever solution I chose, it had to be one that could be completed relatively quickly.

The more I thought about it, the more my dumb-ass brain convinced myself that I could do this job myself. It would be hard work, but I could do it. I’d just have to lift up as much of the existing driveway as I could, spread some limestone chips over the whole thing, pack it down, then spread finishing gravel. Piece of cake.

First thing Wednesday morning I called my local landscape company and ordered nine yards of limestone to be delivered on Saturday.

“We don’t deliver on Saturday’s. What about Friday?”

Shit. That only gave me two nights after work to lift the driveway, clear away all the debris and deposit it all at the dump.

“Sure! Friday works great!” I said.

I got home from work around 3pm on Wednesday, got my ‘working clothes’ on and got busy. My wonderful neighbour Chris loaned me his pickaxe, which was a huge help. There I was like Dopey of the Seven Dwarves with my tool slung over my shoulder walking back across the grass. Unlike Dopey, there was no cute whistling while I worked. It was more grunting and growling with a fair amount of swearing as I pried the chunks out. Some were little and some were not so little.

Not going to lie, I took a sick liking to trying to get the massive ones loose, then bending down, getting my fingers underneath and heaving them to the side. So satisfying to see them fall. I was a God. Not a very attractive one with beet red cheeks, sweat pouring down my face and my humidity hair frizzed out the top of my bandana, but a God none the less.

By the time Chris came home from work, I had enough pieces to fill his trailer, so we loaded it up, piece by piece, and off to the dump we went. We were hoping and praying that there would be somewhere where we could just dump the load to make things a little easier but of course why would there be? So he backed up to bin number 11 and we started tossing. Piece by piece by piece.

Back at the house, we loaded up the trailer again, but by the time we’d finished the dump was closed so we’d have to wait until Thursday. He went off to some work of his own around his place and I proceeded to heave some more until I just couldn’t do anymore heaving. I was a hot, gross, sticky, smelly mess but feeling pretty good about the work that we’d accomplished but also a bit overwhelmed knowing that I still had a shit tonne more to do by Friday.

That shower never felt so good, except my water heater is on the bit of the fritz, so while I had hot water the pressure was so weak it was just sort of lazily dripping out, which made it sort of difficult to get all the soap out of my hair and I didn’t dare condition for as long as I like in case I lost the pressure completely and I was left standing there naked with creme on my head. I know, first world problems. At least I have an indoor shower with hot water. I am blessed.

Thursday was a repeat of Wednesday. Work at my job, then rush home and get to work. My sister and her little puppy Mazie came to help, although Mazie really wasn’t much help, except for giving kisses during break time and licking the sweat from your arms. But she’s cute so she gets away with being a bit of a pain in the ass.

Once Chris got home from work, it was off to the dump with the load from Wednesday and right back to bin eleven. It went much faster with three of us tossing and soon enough we were back at the house to load up the trailer again. Three trips in total and all the asphalt debris was gone. A huge accomplishment really. According to the weigh scales at the recycling center, the combined total of the debris came in at around 3600 kg. Yes 3600 kg. No wonder I was a little tired Thursday night. So thankful to have had the help!

But lifting the driveway and clearing the debris was just the beginning, my nine yards of limestone chips and dust were arriving Friday. All of that had to be spread all over the driveway before Monday when my ten yards of gravel were coming. I definitely had my work cut out for me.

The truck didn’t arrive until around 2 pm, so I spent the morning spreading an earlier pile of gravel that I’d gotten for something else. If you’ve never spread gravel before, it’s hard, heavy and not easy to rake when it’s in a gigantic pile. But shit needed to get done, so I hopped on top of the pile, dug my shovel in and started tossing. I probably should have conserved my energy a bit but what fun would that have been?

By the time the first truck load of limestone arrived, I was already a disgusting mess. It was smoking hot out. I tried to work in the shade as much as I could, but at that time of the day the driveway is in full sun so if I wanted to get it done, I had no choice. Shovel, slug, rake, wheelbarrow, shovel, rake, slug, wheelbarrow. And repeat for the next six hours. I almost got both loads spread, but by around 8 pm, I could barely lift the shovel anymore I was so bagged, so I decided to call it a day.

Chris had come over and suggested renting one of those riding compactors like they use on the highways to smooth and harden the roads. The limestone was pretty soft and mushy and I knew I needed to do it, but I also knew it meant that I had to get up at the crack of dawn and spread the rest out so it was finished and we could pick up the machine before they closed. I’m not a fan of big machines but Chris loves them and offered to drive it and do the work.

But I hedged. He’d already done so much to help me; I didn’t want him to have to waste his Saturday helping me with my driveway. I’m not the best at asking for or accepting help. I just don’t like to put people out or make them feel like I’m bothering them. It’s something I need to work on because there really is no shame in asking for help – especially when it involves a two-tonne machine that could make quick work of an ill placed limb or two.

Then again, I was tired. It was hard, physical work and I honestly didn’t know how much more I had in me. I certainly like to push myself and even I wasn’t sure what I was running on by the end of Friday night – I think it was just sheer stupidity and adrenaline. I accepted his offer, and thank Jesus I did because when I woke up Saturday morning I was moving slow and everything seemed extra heavy.

Still, I spread the rest of the limestone out, then we headed off to the rental place to pick up the compactor. Chris was in heaven driving the rig back and forth across the driveway, and I was in heaven sitting in the shade with a cold wet towel over my head watching him. Teamwork at it’s best.

By the end of the day, he’d rolled that limestone so much it felt like concrete when you walked on it. While I was inside cooling off for a bit, he filled a bunch of wheelbarrows full of gravel and spread them out at the end of the driveway for me, “Just to see how they compacted”. I think he was just having too much fun with that machine and just wanted to drive it some more.

And that’s where this little project is at right now. Everything that can be spread and rolled is spread and rolled. The rest of the gravel doesn’t come until Monday which means I have a full day on Sunday to rest, relax, and rejuvenate. I am so thankful to my sister for her help on Thursday but mainly for Chris, who just willingly gave up his time to help his neighbour in need. He didn’t have to, but he did it anyways.

He saw me working hard and doing my best but struggling, so he pitched in and gave a helping hand. His kindness meant and means the world to me. Sometimes when people are struggling, it’s so easy to look away and convince ourselves that it’s none of our business or in my case, “that dumb ass should have never started something this big on her own, so it serves her right to be out there turning purple and sweating salt chunks”.

It seems like kindness has become a bit of a lost art or a forgotten charm in this crazy self-centered, me first world we live in. I wish it would make a comeback because there is no better feeling than knowing that you have helped someone or made them smile or just given them a little piece of your heart and your love. And that’s just a good feeling on both ends whether you want to believe it or not. The more love and kindness you give, the more you receive, and I don’t know about you, but I feel so much better when I’m open to both giving and receiving love.

It’s not always easy, I know. We get in our safe little shells, where we’re able to control – or at least attempt to control – our surroundings. But the problem with that is we never grow, we never change, we’re always stuck in that little shell and we’ll never know what could be because we’re too busy worrying and trying to protect what is. We’re reluctant to let others in because then we might feel some emotions that we don’t want to deal with. But we need love in our lives. We need kindness. Our human nature dictates that we do. We can’t shut it out forever.

It’s like my driveway, cracked, beaten and worn. It had weathered so much over its life. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a piece popped out. I think it was a sign that it desperately wanted and needed some tender loving care and a huge change. And I felt wonderful helping that driveway out. Piece by piece, the old was removed and space was made for something new, a bit of rebirth, well as much as a driveway can be re-born.

But I think you get my point, challenging yourself with things that maybe seem to be too much is a good thing. Being open to change is a good thing. Being open to receiving help is a good thing. Returning that kindness with a beer and a bunch of laughs on the back patio is immeasurable. It truly is the little things that make a life well-lived and a legacy born.

So, go forth my friends, be kind, be loving, be helpful. Be the person who sees a neighbour in need and jumps in with both feet, all the while, laughing his ass off at her overzealousness as she stands on top of a five-foot pile of dirt with sweat dripping from the end of her nose.