Moving the Mountain One Shovel At a Time

It feels like we will be shoveling manure for the rest of my life, but I begin to notice that the pile does appear to shrink. Then, one day I hear a sound of our shovels scraping against the concrete and it’s the most exquisite Chopin to my ears. After spending eternity with my nose in the manure, I look up and the mountain is - 

Gone! 

All that is left are a few scraps of dirt that we hose down, leaving the driveway sparkly clean. It's the most beautiful sight my eyes have ever seen.

I look at the Space Gardener and he smiles back at me. 

We did it!!  I am sore all over but so relieved and as happy as if I just scaled the summit of K-2. It occurs to me that I need to clarify one issue, though, for I must ensure that I never ever have to deal with this mountain again.

Next time you want to provide some food for my garden, would you mind finding some less olfactory offensive alternative?  I suggest to the Gardener. Somehow the irony of my giving him advice on gardening seems to escape my notice. He appears neither perturbed nor swayed by my suggestion.

Maybe next time you plant tomatoes, they might actually surprise you and smell and taste like the tomatoes are supposed to. Last time they were so insipid even the pinworms refused to eat them.

I peer at him suspiciously, wondering how in the world he knows about my tomato-growing fiasco.  The deep sense of humiliation returns as I visualize my blotchy beefsteaks which even bugs, not to mention my own family, refused to eat.