GRAF #9 Object

GRAF # 9

 Object

A simple, hand-held garden trowel, a Craftsman tool with a lifetime guarantee and the inches engraved right into the metal part, not one of those made-in-China cheapies that bend the first time you try to wrestle a weed out of the packed soil, but one that can hold its own against the most stubborn, misplaced vegetation.  This tool has definitely stood the test of time.  Bought in New York City almost 40 years ago, as a seed and a promise for the new life we were hoping to live, it traveled with us all the way to Alaska, then lived with us in Minnesota, stopped for a winter with us back in NYC, before traveling with us again as we explored New England, eventually settling smack dab in the middle of Maine.  Other trowels have come and gone, bending and breaking, but this one remains the same.  It’s been misused, abused, and reused over and over and over again, and yet it’s still my trusty little trowel.  Seems like I should be treating it with more respect, instead of leaving it in a corner of the chicken coop storage area, which happens to be right next to my garden…  But it doesn’t seem to mind.  Whenever I need it, even if it’s been a long time of seeming neglect, it’s always ready to step up to the plate, ready to lead the charge, ready to do whatever needs to be done.  It doesn’t ask for thanks or for honors.  It does what it does because it needs to be done, and it does it well.  That in itself is reward enough.  And though I don’t say it, I am thankful for my trusty little trowel, not only for its continual usefulness, but also for the lessons this humble little trowel is teaching this not-quite-so-humble gardener.