There I sat, like Lady Astor's horse, eating bonbons and watching the soaps while Kyle worked. I could get used to that. (I'm kidding; I've never watched a soap opera in my life. But I'd eat any bonbon within reach anytime.)
Note to all visitors: Google maps have a wicked sense of humor and send everyone to the far, far end of Gray Rock. The middle of the loop is almost impassable, takes a person miles out of the way, and eats up time and gas.
That said, even after getting lost, the young man was right on time. Those years between 15 and 17 sure show the changes from boyhood to manhood; it's been that long since Kyle was here. Having recently cleared an acre with one of those handheld weed-whackers, he was very happy when I showed him my weed-eater on wheels. I pointed him in the direction of several areas that needed attention and went on down to my chores in the barn. Getting back to the house, we were both ready for a break and had a chance to sit and reacquaint. He went back to work and I had things to do, too.
I'd grown so used to the weed growth that gave the place such an unkempt, raggedy look, it just had become part of the scenery. Last evening as I watered and put the kids to bed, it was such a pleasure to look around and see the edges of the barn neat and tidy, and be able to walk between sheds without fighting my way through knee-high tangles. It's hard to say just how much I appreciate all of Kyle's effort, and Tom's gift on my behalf. We're lookin' good here.