Do you know how difficult it is to get sand out of the base of a portable basketball hoop? The hole is about as big as a child’s wrist, and as it’s had a decade to settle. Inevitably, moisture has made it’s way inside as well as several generation’s worth of spiders.
It is difficult. And heavy. Quite, quite heavy.
Four of us worked on it for an hour. Shaking, thumping, rocking, stabbing, and sweeping, and then once it was light enough for two men to lift, we shoveled the sand onto the grass, then swept the grass with a deck broom.
And then it started to snow. So heavy things were carried from the basement to the front porch, to the garage!
I’m pooped, is what I’m getting at. And that is why this post is a bit late.
Yesterday I watched too much television and wrote too little. 291 fiction words were all I managed in two sessions. Blog words hit at 277 for two posts (nowhere near the 1,000 I wanted). I was incredibly productive in other things, and while the other things aren’t my passion, it’s always good to feel accomplished.