What would you do if you needed to move ten tons of broken-up concrete?
Hire a crew of strong men? Get a dump truck? Call on half a dozen muscular college fellas?
Of course not! Not if you were living in Smith World.
In Smith World, you would hire one man, two women, and eight children between the ages of seven and fifteen to do the job. Because what could possibly be more logical than that?
Our neighbors are doing work on their foundation and, as a result, a huge pile of broken concrete has been collecting by the side of the road. There are few things that light up the eyes of my husband more than broken concrete. And just why is that?
Well, we have a stream behind our house, and since we moved in, a lot of erosion has happened. Steve has been trying to find ways to shore up the shoreline (so to speak), and broken concrete seems to fit the bill.
But how would he move ten tons alone?
Enter the Concrete Super Movers, AKA Meagan, her four kids, her sister, Joy, her husband, John, and their four kids. (Visiting from Florida.) Steve called them and said he would pay them all to spend part of the day hefting huge hunks of concrete across the yard, and down the hill to the creek.
They readily agreed to the challenge and showed up to the job with enormous enthusiasm, as this picture demonstrates. Love their dramatic faces.
What followed was an exercise in happy, organized, chaotic productivity.
Each piece of concrete had to be handled twice–once to load, and once to unload. Concrete-Moving-Vehicles consisted of the small trailer behind the lawn tractor, a wheelbarrow, and John and Joy’s capacious van. Eleven people working 3.5 hours, and they got the job done. (Nathan and I missed out on the great adventure since we were both at work.)
The cousins/siblings all had a chance to show off their muscles.
Madi turned eleven on the 16th. You can tell her advanced age has given her enormous strength.
Hard-workin’ cousins.
The two magnificent mamas were out there working just as hard as anyone. Hey, when there’s money on the line, a new outfit might be on the horizon!
Even Abby, who was on crutches, made herself useful by doing some of the driving . . .
and providing water.
Driving that tractor was definitely the prime attraction for the older kids.
Meagan’s brother-in-law, John, is the pastor of the church where Meagan’s parents had pastored almost two decades before they started serving in the area of missions.
Steve is doing his classic “dad joke pose,” where he bends his first finger to make it look like he is picking his nose. Sigh. Men and their humor. 🙂
The finished product representing a lot of work. (Andrew asked Steve on the phone yesterday how the “rocks” had done during the recent rains. He was very concerned about the longevity of his labors.)
Joy and Meagan, being organized and frugal women, had planned ahead and brought sandwich fixings. They fed the whole crew lunch before they took off to new, non-concrete-based adventures.
My own dad is gone, but I want to take a moment to recognize my son and my husband.
Nathan is usually buried behind three computer monitors and rows of spreadsheets, but in this photo, he is actually going out to a Duke Energy worksite–a great change of pace.
When Meagan sent the picture, she said, “I like sharing what he is doing. I’m a proud wife!” (I love a woman who compliments her husband!)
Nathan juggles a lot and has faced more than his share of challenges over the past couple of years. But regardless of what is going on, he is a consistent, gentle, godly, loving Dad. He’d be the first to tell you he’s not perfect at it, but he puts every piece of his heart into the task of raising those four kids and being a great husband to their mom. Love you, son of my heart.
He keeps the outside shipshape . . .
and manages to cook me fabulous meals, as well.
To celebrate Father’s Day, I made him breakfast. Eggs, toast, and oranges, arranged in a rather strange pattern. (Hey. When creativity strikes, you gotta go with it.)
(His t-shirt says, “I don’t make mistakes when playing bass. I made spontaneous, creative decisions.”
Our children have been raised, loved, and influenced by this man, and they are a beautiful reflection of his heart. Love you, honey!
In closing, I just ran across this photo of Steve with his brothers and parents, taken in about 1974. Steve had a great example of fatherhood to follow in his dad. I’m thankful for the generations that have gone before and the ones yet to come.
What about you?
Tell us something about your dad. (I do realize not all dad stories are positive ones.) Maybe just share something you learned from him–whether something you want to emulate or something you don’t.
What small or large thing do you have planned in the next couple of weeks/months that makes you smile?
That is one intrepid, hard working group of Cement Carrying Chaps! And Chap-esses! And Chap-ettes! Job very well done.
Love Steve’s shirt and your artsy breakfast. And that vintage Smith family photo is the best!
Sending love!
Deb
Deb,
Yes. Many cheers for the chaps, chap-esses, and chap-ettes. (Such cute names.) I wouldn’t have lasted fifteen minutes!
I do love that vintage photo; Ken and Vernie looks so young and full of life. 💕
How precious that Andrew was concerned about “their” rocks weathering the rain! And what a great way to recycle used concrete…When I think of my dad, the first thing that comes to mind is his love of trains – which was a constant throughout his life. There are pictures of me as a baby/toddler being held in the window of train engines. In his later years he was able to go back to work for C&O Railway working on their two-way radios after passing his FCC test. When I visit family in Arkansas, I can still hear trains passing through town and I LOVE hearing it at night lying in bed going to sleep – it always reminds me of dad…My daughter & I are planning on going to Arkansas later this week and my son is meeting us up there, so that is a very happy thing…I hope you all have a wonderful week.
Sue Ellen,
Yes, I think it’s so funny that Andrew was concerned enough to check on the outcome of his labors.
I love that you grew up in and around trains and have those happy memories of your dad to look back on. Trains are in a world all their own and you’re right, hearing one at night is an evocative sound–especially for you!
Have happy travels and a joyful get together with family.
Those were quite the workers And a good time was had by all???? Like the older picture of Steve and his family. Look at those 2 towheads? Have a feeling the color didn’t last long? My dad was an entertainer and played in bars (mom went with to sing and dance) and was on KFGO in Fargo, ND. Too long how he was converted but he was and became a pastor in a small church (Pinewood Chapel) outside Detroit Lakes, MN. He passed away in 2011 – Even though he had diabetes and had heart problems, he lived to be 96. Late Happy Father’s Day guys!
Sharyn,
Living to be 96 with all those health problems is amazing. Sounds like your mom and dad lived rich and rewarding lives.
I think Jeff’s blond hair lasted through early adulthood; you can see the genetic influence in Andrew and Madi’s hair color. And Nathan was a blondie, too!
My dad has dementia. Though his earthly vessel still lingers here, “he” left us long ago. I miss him desperately, especially the long, philosophical, challenging conversations we used to have about all manner of things. Often I read something we once would’ve had a vigorous exchange about and it hits me in the gut once again that I can’t call him and ask his thoughts.
My dad wasn’t a perfect dad either, but he was a brilliant man with a fascinating mind and that’s what I miss most.
Ellen,
I love that you had “long, philosophical, challenging conversations about all manner of things.” What a gift that was to you both. It’s great when dads are wise and treat their daughters with as much intellectual respect as they would a son.
Dementia is a tragic disease for anyone who has it, but I know you especially feel the loss when it was such a brilliant mind that was robbed. Your mind, that was honed by all your discussions, will continue to carry on his legacy.
What a lot of work to move all that concrete-good work all who were there. I would have found a way out of that.
My dad was a fix-it man around the house so I miss him when we have to hire someone to make repairs (like a recent broken window and leaky toilet).
While at my cousins 85th birthday last week, he brought out a walking stick my dad made for him for his 50th birthday. He got everyones attention and showed how my dad had made it special for him by inlaying a banjo bridge in the handle. He continued to tell everyone what a great guy my dad was and how much he is missed. I was so happy that he did that, and still had the walking stick after 35 years!
We have a granddaughter getting married in August and my husband is preforming the wedding so looking forward to that and that another granddaughter will be bringing her newborn baby (our 5th great grandchild) to the wedding.
Patti,
What a work of art to incorporate a banjo bridge into the handle of a walking stick. I know it blessed you to hear someone saying such wonderful things about your dad.
Sounds like August is going to be full of precious and unique family moments. Enjoy every second!
Of course you know that my dad passed into the presence of Jesus just 3 weeks ago, but perhaps my fondest memory of him happened on the golf course. That was where we had our deepest conversations, and this memory happened on the occasion of my 50th birthday (he would soon be turning 75). I asked him – seriously – this question: “I’m turning 50! When do you start FEELING like an adult?” His response? “I’ll let you know.”
And by the way, where can I get one of those bass players shirts? I love it!
Gordon,
I love your dad’s attitude. At 75, he was still not feeling like an adult. That’s how I want to be!
I know your first Father’s Day without him was bittersweet. 💕 Oh how the years go by . . .
As for the shirt, I think you can find versions of it on FB. 🙂