China Bound

When I was a kid I thought that if I dug a deep enough hole I’d end up on the other side of the world. Namely, that I’d find myself in China. Every kid thinks that, don’t they?

Well, I dug a lot of holes, some deeper than I was tall, but I never did get to China. I never got anywhere, to tell the truth. And my dad? He always made me fill in the holes, so after a while I gave up trying to dig my way to the other side of the world.

These past few days I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about those younger digging days. Why? Because I’ve got a shovel in my hand again. And I’m digging. And digging. And digging some more.

Last spring we ordered six dozen flower bulbs. They were delivered earlier this week. Now I’ve got to dig six dozen holes. To tell the truth, I don’t mind doing it. Gives me lots of time to think, and I don’t have to go to the gym if I exercise with a shovel in my own backyard.

Still, I find myself wondering why digging holes seemed so much more fun when I was seven than it does now. Any ideas?

What about you? Did you dig in the dirt when you were small? If you did, where do you think you were headed?

And a word of advice, if I may. If you ever think that ordering six dozen bulbs is a good idea, maybe you should close the catalog and take a walk. With a shovel. Get some perspective, you know? That way you’ll know exactly what digging to the other side of the world entails.

Have a great day! And remember, if you need me I’ll be outside…with the shovel.