Today is one of those times. A couple days ago I posted some video my wife took of me going to town on an old overgrown shrubbery bed. I did great, tearing out old overgrown bushes, poison ivy vines, etc. This morning I got back to work on it, carting off four full buckets of rocks and busted up concrete. The concrete...
This house was owned from 1901 - 1999 by one family. We bought it in '99. They lived here for about 70 of those years. The "baby", who was born in 1933 told me all about how her Dad owned a concrete mixer. I think they poured concrete for recreation. EVERYTHING, including the corncrib and the outhouse has either a concrete foundation or a stone and concrete foundation. This part of the yard must have yards of concrete.
At some point in the distant past, there was a wrought iron Victorian style fence running in front of the house and down along the side yard. Some drunk took out the stuff in front before we bought it, and we sold the rest to a neighbor trying to complete his own fence in the house up the road where members of the same family had lived. This fence was set in enough concrete to launch a Saturn V rocket. The above ground portion was somewhat decorative at some point, but had become nothing more than a place for poison ivy and other weeds to germinate. So I started taking it out.
Today, after removing all the rocks and chunks of concrete, I found more. Worse, I found remnants of the old fence where the drunk had torn it up. Three bits of wrought iron were sticking up out of the ground. I painted them to make them easier to spot as I worked. I kept digging further and further out, only to encounter more concrete. And they used a rich mix, lemme tell you. I finally gave up. I was able to bend the bigger pieces over, and the littlest one should be fine. I figure I can put 5-7” of new dirt over them and make sure plants go over so I don’t encounter them years from now with the mower. But I am tired of (trying to) dig it.