holes. holes. more holes. {water.}

This is a story about digging holes.  

In the photo below, you'll see a blue water faucet/spicket/hydrant/thingamajig.  When we bought our home last year, it was the only source of outside water to the property.  

I'm in the process of planning my vegetable garden for this spring and I asked Britton if there was a way to get water closer to the area where I'll be planting.  I'm not much of a fan of dragging hundreds of feet of hoses everywhere.  And there used to be water all over, you see.  But somewhere along the way, the previous owner sprung a leak and he shut it all off.  It hasn't functioned in years.  

My sweet husband was determined to get it working again and provide a faucet/spicket/hydrant/thingamajig right next to my new garden spot. 

He called his dad (bless his heart) over to come help and this is what happened...

Digging.  Digging.  And more digging. 

This does not even begin to show the holes.  There were holes all over the property.  Holes that a photo cannot capture.  Holes and holes and holes and holes.  

Digging to find where this pipe meets up with the next pipe and the next....

Digging beyond the call of duty... 

Digging beyond what a normal person might have done.,, 

But you know what?  

His persistence paid off.  The holes are now a memory and my beautiful new faucet/spicket/hydrant/thingamajig is ready for spring. 

Thanks babe.  I just might share my crops with you.,, 

O, and Papa too.