This is a guest post by Kelli’s brother, Jeff
About 25 years ago Kelli and I were assigned to bring wheelbarrows of dirt into a garden plot to make a garden for our grandparents. This was not thrilling work but when Grandpa says to do stuff you do it, what with Christmas and all.
The work dragged on and we struggled to maintain our motivation. One thing we could never figure out is why the dirt wasn’t just dumped in the garden plot to begin with, but alas, whatever.
After we dumped a load of dirt out I would give Kelli a ride back to the dirt pile and I imagine that at least once she did the same for me. At a certain point someone went past the house and saw us giving rides.
These people proceeded to call our grandparents and rat on us. Grandma came out and took pictures to document our audacity to have fun while we worked.
Ever since then this has been remembered as the day Kelli and Jeff played instead of worked. Which, although I’m largely over it, confuses me because you can drive past the house today and still see the garden and our dirt. It didn’t get there by itself.
Solidarity. Power to the people. Workers of the family unite.