I love my wife.

She has been feeling pretty bad the last week. It started with a sore throat and progressed to all over yuck.

But, she still finds the energy to fix something good to eat.

“After I finish in the kitchen, I’m going to Lowe’s to get some border stones for the flagpole. I’ll show you what’s available.”

I had done the math. Circumference equals two times pi times the radius. For two layers, fifty stones should do.

I sent her pictures of the four choices on sale for 1.28 instead of 1.98.

She liked the lighter one. “It looks more like Texas limestone…why don’t you get sixty.” She never did trust my math.

I love my wife.

I got sixty.

To load this cart, I had to get on my knees on the concrete floor and empty the pallet, being careful to stack them so they wouldn’t shift as I pushed the cart. (I had hoped they would be out on the parking lot so I could just pay and pull up in my car to load them. But…no.)

Eighteen per layer, 3 layers, that’s 54, plus 6 on top.

I tried to push the cart to the checkstand.

I grunted. It was slow going. I only weigh 150…I think the cart outweighed me a little.

“I think I overestimated my energy level,” I said to some random lady customer. She smiled.

I saw an old friend walking into the garden center.

The checker had seen my plight with the heavy cart. “You can just leave it there. I can check you out from here.”

My friend said, “Oh, Randy, are you going to put all those in your car? You don’t think they will flatten your tires?” She made a good point. Or ruin my shocks? I hadn’t thought about this.

“That will be 83.14,” the checker said. “Would you like some help loading these?”

“….I think I would. After loading the cart…I think I would.”

“You loaded these by yourself?” I think she was impressed, but she may have been thinking ( silly old man should have gotten some help.)

“Just push that cart out there, pull your car up, and I’ll call someone to help you.”

So, I followed instructions.

I figured I could load a few while I waited for the help.

Help never came. It was a nice theory, though.

As I drove home, every bump seemed to go to the limit on the shocks.(I think they call them struts now…shocks were better…back in the old days.)

I made it home…went in for some water.

I told Wendy about loading them alone, twice.

“Oh, honey! No one helped you?”

She had the right amount of compassion in her tone.

I love my wife.

“Be sure and use a long level. You don’t want an unlevel border, because it will make the flagpole look crooked…and, you’ll probably have to dig out where the ground is higher.”

She was right.

I actually hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Digging a trench.

That’s why I never became a plumber.

So, I did it, trench and all.

I think it looks nice.

I am pooped.

I went in to take a shower.

Just out of curiosity I took one of the stones in to see how much it weighed.

I had figured originally before that probably five pounds apiece was the weight.

For the story, though, I hoped at least eight to ten pounds, so you would be impressed.

I put the stone down, and stepped on the scale.


Hmm. I think I lost some weight.

I picked up the stone, stepped back on the scale.


Math…is that right? 21.6 pounds.

Each stone weighed 21.6 pounds?!

I’m glad I didn’t know this before.

Just so you will be impressed…

60 stones

Handled three times

That’s 180 stones

Times 21.6


Are you ready?

3,888 pounds.

Oh, and I carried that one stone in.

That makes 3,909 pounds.

That is almost two tons!

I am pooped!

I do love my wife, though…!



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