2003sep26. There’s a magical mound of dirt in the driveway. The driveway is a dirt road, and there’s a mound of dirt in the middle of it, it could probably just fill a two-liter bottle. I thought maybe a truck dumped it out when they encountered our brand-new Railroad Ties That Keep You From Casing Our Joint Barricade feature, so I shovelled it out of the way and dug a little hole.
The next day the mound of dirt was there, again. “Huh.” That’s too much dirt for insects to move overnight. I dug down a little bit to see if I could find a hole ... nothing. So I took the dirt and shovelled it out of the way and made a bigger hole.
The next day it rained. The day after that, the mound was back. My girlfriend reminded me that toads burrow, but the dirt is (or was, before the rain) scrabbly tough, almost impossible to dig through. And toads usually do their business where there are other landscaping features and softer dirt. For right now, I’m going with the toad theory. I thought I would go back to the mound and pour some water over it, a little drink for the toad, but then I thought I might accidentally drown it. So I jammed some Baby Ruths in the mound and hoped for the best.