Horse Manure and Rear Brakes

Horse Manure and Rear Brakes

Two men from the city of Fort Collins Utilities Department working near my house, knocked on the door to tell me that in the process of replacing the gas line in the neighborhood, they had turned off my gas. “I noticed. I just tried to heat some water on my gas stove.”

“We’ll be finished soon. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

For the past two weeks there has been an enormous pile of dirt overflowing from the street onto the grass at the side of my house. Alongside it, two earthmoving machines have been residing. It’s been inconvenient, interesting and hard to find a place to park.

As the men returned to work, one of them said, “Haven’t you always wished for a big pile of dirt like that in your yard?”

“If it were manure, I’d sure be happy about it.”

“Manure?” said the younger of the men. “You want manure? I’ll bring you a load.”

“You will?” I could come get it in my station wagon.”

“Not a good idea,” he replied.

That was Wednesday. Sunday afternoon I heard a knock at my back door. One of the utility workers, Ken and his wife Anne, were parked by the curb with a huge load of manure in their pick-up. Before I could find a shovel to help, they had unloaded it beside my garden.

“No one does nice things for people any more,” Ken said.

Suddenly I had a new enthusiasm for the upcoming gardening season—and for the human race.

The next week my niece and her husband, who I’d met only once, came from Maine. On the third day of their visit, I had an appointment to have my oil changed. When the shop called to say that I needed new rear brakes, I was ready to give the go-ahead when Joe, who had already revealed himself as a man of many skills, shook his head, “No.”

I thanked the mechanic and said I’d just get an oil change for now. Without the proper tools, in cold, windy weather, with no access to a warm garage, Joe spent most of a precious vacation day installing rear brakes in my Subaru.

The colder and windier the day became and the more time the project took, the worse I began to feel.  Then I realized that it was bad weather for sightseeing and that maybe this wasn’t a bad way to spend this day.

Lauren and I had a rare opportunity to visit over family albums. A trip for tools, another for parts and by mid-afternoon the brakes were installed for a total outlay of $20. Joe came away from his task cold and grease-covered and with the knowledge that he’d helped me big time.

It’s hard to thank a stranger for giving you a load of manure because you made a wisecrack about a pile of dirt and it‘s hard to thank an in-law for a brake job he just happened upon.

Maybe the best thank you is to keep the “good turn” ball rolling.