Who would be the most welcome visitor I might have had this week, do you suppose? It wasnít the mailman, who finally showed up today with yesterdayís mail. It wasnít the UPS driver who hid the package from me. It wasnít anyone else, because there wasnít anyone else, except the one person more welcome than anyone I can think of.
While I was sitting at the computer this afternoon, finishing up the dayís drudgery (and watching the ballgame and checking Facebook and Twitter), I heard a familiar musically-accented ďHellooooĒ coming from just outside the open front door. My yard guy finally noticed that maybe Iíd be glad to see him, and was he ever right! I had just finished the latest sneezing fit shortly before he arrived, so I was doubly happy with the timing of his visit.
My question was simple: When could he come? I didnít have to negotiate price, because Iíve been paying him more than he asked for the last few years, and Iíll pay him a little more than that this time. I wasnít worried about the quality of the work he planned to do, because he always does a better job than I think is possible. I know how hard it is, because Iíve tried to do it in small patches, with embarrassingly ineffective results.
So next Sunday Iím getting the grasses and weeds in my yard cut down to ground level. He said that would be the best day for him, and I told him I was going to a family event. He said not to worry, because it would take him two days to finish anyway. I offered to pay him before I leave and he wouldnít hear of it. I would have paid him right now, four days early, if heíd asked me to. Iíve been saving for this day, a few dollars at a time, for weeks now.