Postholes and Ice Cream:

It's interesting what triggers a memory or a comparison to times gone by. It happened, unbidden, to me today while I was of all things, digging a posthole.  (Now the more cynical of you might say that that was just an excuse to stop digging and go sit in the shade - but surely that couldn't be it?)


Growing up in rural Real County, Texas, my Dad often had my brother Norvell and me working on his projects.  Many of those projects involved glorious things like spreading tar and gravel or nailing on a new tin roof, (ask my brother Norvell how he got sunburned underneath his ears next time you see him), all during the hottest summer day, taking the pickup down to the Nueces River to get a pickup load of sand and gravel, or best of all, digging holes for one thing or another. 

Anyone who has ever dug a hole in the Nueces Canyon of Real County knows what I'm talking about.  Unless you chance upon a great alluvial Pecan bottom with deep, fertile soil, most of the time you have about 1/2 inch of soil, and the rest hard, limestone rock.  Digging holes, whether for septic tanks or postholes, becomes a matter of chipping the hard rock out piece by piece.  Normally after each siege, you'd kneel down and take a Folgers coffee can, and scoop out the debris in the bottom of the hole.  (Folgers coffee was our brand of choice, and we always had plenty of 3-pound cans around.  We also had a 1-pound can sitting on the stove in the kitchen where Mom kept the bacon grease.) 

Over and over and over again until the hole was deep enough.  Wonderful work which gives you plenty of time and impetus to think seriously about furthering your education.

Anyway, BB and I have been doing some landscaping in the back yard, and this morning I was digging the post holes for a new trellis.  Luckily, my soil in east central Austin is more clay than rock, but the digging was still slow, and the tools of the trade, (post-hole digger, crowbar, can) are still the same. 

My new Folgers Coffee Can

With one exception! 

While scooping out the debris, I noticed that I wasn't using the trusty Folgers coffee can. 

Now, I use a recyclable HDPE container of super premium dairy goat milk ice cream!  (This one was one of my favorites - "Miles of Chocolate."

Yep, as the old saying goes, "You've come a long way, baby."

This reminds me of two other stories I should share which relate to digging holes and rock; one is Norvell's story about septic tanks and dynamite, and the other is the best job I ever had! 

But I'll save those stories for later.