Y'all, chip drop is no joke.

 So this one time, I was watching Jim Putnam on HortTube and he mentioned something that sounded amazing-chip drop. All you have to do is sign up, and someone brings a pile of wood chips to your door for free. "What's the catch?" one might ask. Well, the catch is they don't tell you ahead of time when it's coming, the mulch is a little rough-just trees through the shredder-and it's a lot. A lot a lot. They explain this to you in the video about why you might not be a good candidate for chip drop, but I said, "Bring it on." Sometimes I can get a little enthusiastic about whatever I'm obsessing about, and I admit I'm obsessing about gardening right now, but I wasn't afraid of a little pile of wood chips. That is, until Wednesday when I was at work at the nursery and I got a text that said, "Chip drop today." A little while later I got another text, this one from my neighbor, "Did you order some mulch to be dropped in the cul-de-saq?" Now, this is a very patient neighbor, not one to be alarmed, but she sounded, shall we say, concerned. I got a little concerned also, but admittedly excited. I drove home, and as I turned the corner to my driveway, I saw why my neighbor was nervous.

This pile of woodchips was as big as a truck and extended halfway into the cul-de-saq. Of course it was the day before garbage pickup, and I knew there were going to be some unhappy people if the garbage man couldn't circle around the street. I gathered my courage and determination along with my pitchfork and rusty wheel barrow and started moving wood chips. It smelled delightful. The weather was cool and perfect for shoveling, but the task at hand was daunting. I worked hard for a couple of hours and made what I thought was great progress as the 4 foot tail on the edge of the pile was now spread around my bushes. Considering how much time there was until sunset and how much mulch was still on the street, I was feeling like maybe I overestimated my abilities. My son came out to join the fun and our production stepped up a bit. Earlier I had invited the neighbors to help themselves to chips, but so far no takers. At about 6:30 my awesome neighbors, Taran and Mike Swanson came out of their house with shovels and their not rusty wheel barrow and jumped in to help. I wanted them to take chips for their yard, but first they worked on mine.

Can we stop for a moment and talk about how much  it lifted my spirits to have these good people join me in my chip job? They brought fresh muscles and smiles and friendship. Then my neighbor Casey came out. He didn't have a wheelbarrow, but he's a smart engineer for real and we filled his recycling bin which holds a lot of woodchips and has wheels. With all of us working together, bit by bit, the pile grew smaller and smaller. The street light came on as the sun went down, and who knows where we were dumping the mulch exactly. But the street began to clear until there was plenty of room for the garbage man the next morning. We were tired, but no one wanted to be the first to quit. We finally called it a night, and I had to admit that it had been a really fun evening. 

The next morning the garbage was picked up on schedule and no one even came knocking on my door asking why the heck there was a pile of wood chips on the street. I was sore, as in my legs wouldn't move, but there were many wheelbarrowfuls to go before I could sleep, so back to the street I went. Gabe helped some more and we convinced the other neighbors that they would definitely benefit from a little mulch along their borders. The next night Angela and Carter came to join the chip party, and I got to catch up with them and their sweet family. After a few more pitchforkfuls our monstrous woodchip mountain was a little mound of chip dust.

 

Tomorrow I'll sweep the street and all that will be left will be the wonderful memories of being with my lovely neighbors, and the knowledge that we can do big things if we work together and just don't give up. And someday, I'll forget how sore my legs were and sign up for chip drop again, someday in the far, far, far distant future.