Excavator Anointing

After two months of empty promises from my pond excavator, the project timeline was in jeopardy.

So I did what any self-respecting project manager would do:

I escalated the matter to the project owner.

ME.

I rented a mini excavator.

Watched YouTube with Bibi.
Learned how to drive it in approximately eleven minutes.

I donned my PPE!

What could possibly go wrong?

Three hours later, with Bibi coaching from the sidelines, I had
dug several questionable holes,
developed deep respect for heavy machinery operators,
terrified myself repeatedly,
and collected what I believe is called “data.”

My daughter Imani texted:

“Mom, that looks terrifying.”

It was.

At one point the excavator tilted so sharply, I screamed in tongues to the birds in the field.

But listen.

There is something deeply satisfying about learning practical things at this age.

I have degrees.
I’ve led global programs.
I’ve spoken in boardrooms.

Yet nothing has boosted my confidence quite like successfully moving dirt without flipping both myself and the machinery into a pond-that-does-not-yet-exist.

But let me be clear:

Wild horses will not be getting me back onto that beast anytime soon.

My teeth are still rattling.