Five Long Years

Five long years.

That's how long I waited to get a new, decent sidewalk.

Why the wait, you ask?

I am so glad you ask.

Many years ago (say, five) we had the original, beautiful brick sidewalk dug up because a giant root was pushing it up. All we wanted was the sidewalk to be relaid in sand so that the root could remain undamaged. It is attached to a large tree close to our house.

We had an emergency, and had to leave hurriedly while the men were repairing our sidewalk.

They were paid half, we left.

Woe is me.

When we got back we had a cement sidewalk with a brick here and there and a peculiar step down, which looked dangerous and has proven to be so. Husband's sister has fallen down it and a dear friend fell up it.

We saved furiously, then sought a professional to build a sidewalk that would not try to kill company.

I have had four men look at it, three promise to do the work, and no one to show back up.

Finally a young man said yes and actually dug up that mess and put down lovely cobblestone.

I am in love.

True love, they say, is worth waiting for.

Five long years.