caterpillars and dirt

A few weeks ago, I came home from work to find a huge Caterpillar in my yard. Not the cute, furry kind. The kind that moves boulders. And huge piles of dirt.

I am one of the lucky Bisbee residents whose soil tested positive for high levels of lead and arsenic. A local mining company, in an effort to build a positive relationship with the community, is identifying which yards contain the contaminated soil and offering the owners a complete yard makeover- out with the old soil, in with the new. Our landlord, who for some reason has a fondness for cacti, gravel, and black volcanic rock, has opted to have them return the cacti jungle to the front yard, but is having them put sod down in the backyard.

My children and I have lived in this home for the past two years. When I first found out that the soil tested positive, I was of course concerned about the health and safety of my children. "Don't worry," they said. "The levels are not harmful enough to, say, cause brain damage or anything. It's not like they've been rolling in it or eating it." Imagine my silence. And then my frantic call to the pediatrician to request blood work for my children.

When I mentioned it to my father, his response was typical of a Bisbee oldtimer- "Oh, most of the yards in Bisbee probably have that stuff. You girls grew up here... and both of you turned out fine." Imagine my silence some more.

So here we are, two weeks into our yard renovation. The landscape changes daily. We've seen mounds and gouges and bridges and lakes. As fascinating as it all is, I've practically had to climb mountains to catch my son who really wants to get on that "twactow".

I've heard that these yards turn out lovely when they're done. A grassy backyard will be a wonderful thing for the kids. Ironically, we are moving in less than two weeks. So as you view the photos of the outside of our house, imagine what's happening inside. Moving boxes, check. Piles of bags for the thrift store, check. Piles of stuff to give to family, friends, and coworkers' cleaning ladies, check. Each time I move, I'm amazed at how many things I have still managed to carry with me all these years. This time around, I have finally managed to rid myself of the following: my old ballet pointe shoes (who knew they could eventually get moldy?), my old Mat Maids uniform (who knew it would eventually go out of style?), my collection of cassette tapes from the 80's and early 90's, and my collection of papers and essays written in grad school. Things I managed to keep, knowing that the only time I will look at them again is the next time I move: my baby shoes and baby blanket, oodles and oodles of poetry written in high school years, and my wedding dress (I've been divorced for three years... what the heck do I do with the dress??).

And yet... despite the chaos and the mess and the hard decisions about what to carry with us into this next phase in life, we still manage to laugh and play and cuddle amidst the turmoil (inside and out)...

Take it from the cats. They know how to make the best use of moving boxes: