It’s been a while since I posted anything new about our earth-sheltered house. That’s because since we moved in on November 20 of last year, nothing has happened. We moved in with the house being only partially buried, ropes stringing down from the parapet wall and staked into the ground in front of the dome to hold up the old carpet that we put on top of the six-mil plastic to protect it. The ropes held the carpet up against the side of the parapet wall while it awaited the covering of dirt.
The carpet and rope waited along with us for about three months.
All because of a wild rat.
In mid-October, we had enough rain that Troy, our digger guy, had to stop working for more than a week. He left his equipment sitting on our property, near our woods. He worked a day here and there, but then more rain kept him away again.
When he finally returned, his backhoe wouldn’t start. He opened up the place where the engine is, and a big ol’ Florida woodrat came running out, leaving a nest behind.
(If you haven’t seen the video where I talk about finding a nest in the engine of my car, click here. Apparently this happens frequently in this area to us rednecks 😉 who don’t have garages.)
The rat left more than a nest behind. It also left chewed wires.
But Troy didn’t think about that, and neither did his mechanic, until they’d tried replacing several different parts. Of course, more rainy weather kept the mechanic away; otherwise he would have discovered the problem much sooner than he did.
In the meantime, I started to fret. We have close to $900 worth of fruit trees and bushes being delivered the third week of March, and every single one is going to be planted around the house.
Where Troy was working. And which still, for the most part, lacks topsoil.
I almost canceled the order in despair several times. Then, I decided we would just put everything in pots and I would have to be miserable one more summer with having to keep pots watered.
I told God, “Okay, fine. Whatever. Do what You want. We’ll deal with the extra work.”
Well, I guess it’s true what I’ve heard preached: when you let go, God moves.
In mid-January, the mechanic discovered the chewed wires. Then it took him another week or two to ferret out the exact wires that needed replacing.
Last Tuesday, Troy showed up with his backhoe and announced that he was ready to go.
Thank You, Jesus!
So he is back in the proverbial saddle, and the burial of the house should be completed well before our large Raintree Nursery arrives. And if something happens to prevent it, I choose not to worry.
Benjamin has given me enough gray hairs as it is.