Beech Tree News Network

When Garey and I were younger, in a much younger marriage, I would try to surprise him on his Birthday or Christmas with presents he didn’t expect.  He would always guess what was in the box, no matter how I tried to disguise the package, or find the presents, no matter how well I thought I’d hidden them.  It was a point of pride on his part and a point of frustration on mine.  After years of this cat and mouse, I gave the game over, and resolved to never again exercise in this futility.  This Christmas, I went back on that resolve.
    The idea that I might be able to surprise Garey for Christmas began to take shape one day when I was cleaning our bedroom.  I took stock of the dozen or so nut cans that had collected on Garey’s dresser.  A few weeks before, he told me not to throw them away, because he was going to put an assortment of nails in them.  He even had a plan to tape one nail from each can to the lid so he could easily identify its contents.  As I looked at the cans, I thought I could easily paint the cans, buy the nails and tape a nail to each lid.  It would be a good surprise.
    The second surprise I came up with was going to be a lot harder to pull off, but I felt I was up to the challenge.  We have a raised bed of strawberries in our back yard.  Garey usually takes very good care of it, but this year, it got away from him.  By the end of the fall, there were more weeds than strawberry plants in it.  During berry season, we had to cover it with that plastic fencing stuff to keep out birds and deer; and even though we had removed the fencing, there was a yellow bucket and a concrete block still in the middle of the bed that had served to keep the fencing up and off of the plants.  Add to that, some electric fence posts at each corner—they still held the string that held the metal pie pans, attached to frighten away any berry scavengers—and the result was a real eye sore in our back yard.  On a couple of occasions, I noticed Garey standing over the raised bed with a discouraged look.
    I started with what I thought would be the easy project of painting nut cans with silver spray paint.  I sprayed, and the paint ran right off the label.  I sprayed again, and again, the paint ran off the label.  I bought more expensive paint, I sprayed the labels again, and once again the paint ran off the label.  We are not talking about expensive nuts here.  These were not Planters.  These were dollar nuts in twenty-five cent cans.  I had to remove the blasted labels and paint the cardboard underneath then cover the dried paint with packing tape in order to keep the cans from coming apart.  So much for easy.
    I knew cleaning out the strawberry bed would be a challenge, because nothing escapes Garey’s notice; but the main problem was going to be time.  I could easily have finished the whole thing in two days of uninterrupted time, but I rarely have uninterrupted time.  When Garey wasn’t around, I usually had my granddaughter, and the weather was too cold to have her out while I was weeding—and she isn’t the kind who’s going to stay in the house if I’m outside.  When I didn’t have my granddaughter, Garey was at the house or I was grocery shopping or getting other things ready for Christmas, so the time thing became the real challenge.  I had to face the fact that I was going to have to weed in thirty-minute increments, so that’s what I did.
    I gathered my garden trowel and a metal washtub and went to work.  I raked back leaves from a two-foot section and began to dig up dandelion roots.  The roots ran all the way to Zambia, but I had time to dig only to Tanzania, hoping that would slow them down till I could get ahold of them again this spring.  When I finished with that section, I raked the leaves back over it and replaced some of the dried sage grass I pulled up earlier in order to make the area look untouched.  I moved on to the next section and did the same.  I was careful not to move the yellow bucket or concrete block from their spots.  If I did have to move anything, like the string hanging from the metal fence posts, I made sure it was back in its original place when I quit for the day. 
    It was a slow go, but I finished up the morning before Christmas Eve while Garey was at work and Sabria was at her Dad’s.  I removed the yellow bucket, concrete block, electric fence posts and string.  I carted off the dried leaves and mulched the bed with fresh pine straw we’d brought back from Alabama.  I fixed a sign that read: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO GAREY FROM CHERYL.  I placed the sign in the center of the strawberry bed.
    Garey discovered his present on Christmas Eve morning—I can’t believe it took him that long.  He wasn’t just surprised, he was in total shock.  He turned to me and said, “This is quite possibly the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.”  I was pleased.
    He laughed when he opened the box with the cans of nails on Christmas morning.  I smiled.  I got him twice in one Christmas.  I’d better quit while I’m ahead.