The Magic Shovel
By E. Noel Preston, MD

   Two years ago I decided to plant 200 daffodil bulbs at the edge of the woods in my back yard. The ground was covered with ivy and the first thing to do was clear out the ivy so I could dig, but this was easier said than done. After 30 minutes of very hard work I had cleared a spot about the size of a dinner plate, and I tried sticking a shovel in the dirt to dig a hole. The ground was so hard I couldn't make a dent in it, and so I called my 78-year-old yardman, Harold. to see if he could bring a roto-tiller the next time he came to cut the grass. I wanted him to dig out a trench along the edge of the woods from one side of the yard to the other, but Harold was skeptical. "It's too dry to dig," he said. "That ground is so hard it will break the tiller. We should wait until it rains and the ground will be softer." It was late January and I had already bought the bulbs and I didn't want them to spoil before we could plant them, but Harold was adamant: No rain, no digging. So I waited, and waited, and waited, and there was no rain until the middle of March. Harold came out that week to cut the grass, and I asked if he had brought the roto-tiller but he hadn't. I said "Those bulbs have already begun to sprout and I don't think I can take them back for a refund -- I hope you can bring the tiller next week, otherwise they're going to go bad." Harold said, "That's no problem -- I can dig out a trench with my shovel right now." It was already after 4:30 in the afternoon and we weren't on Daylight Saving Time, and it was about to get Seriously Dark.

   But Harold knew what he was doing. Somebody like me, who didn't, would have tried putting the point of the shovel on the ground and then stepping (or jumping) on the shovel to push the blade into the ground. But not Harold. He didn't even start with a shovel. He used the flat curved blade of his pick-axe to break up the ground into loose chunks of dirt, then he chopped out a shallow trench about a foot and a half wide and two or three inches deep. After that, he went back with his shovel, but instead of digging, he scooped the dirt out of the trench. His teen-aged daughter from a second marriage came along behind, and very carefully, precisely, and gently placed the daffofdil bulbs in overlapping diamond-shaped patterns in the trench. Then Harold took shovelsful of dirt and instead of just tossing them onto the bulbs, he gently shook the shovel from side to side so the dirt fell in soft, loose clumps over the edges of the shovel and onto the bulbs beneath. It was beautiful. I haven't seen brain surgery done so well. And Harold and his daughter dug the trench and planted the bulbs and covered them with mulch in less than an hour.

   I love watching people do things just right, whether it's a painter being very careful around a windowsill or a door jamb, or an auto mechanic balancing tires or adjusting headlights. People seem to love to hate Martha Stewart -- there's an absolutely hysterical comic strip about "The Woman Who Does Everything Better Than You." and some folks are positively gleeful the Domestic Diva is actually going to jail for doing what almost anybody would do if their stockbroker called and told them bad news about one of their investments: she sold! Duh! (To me, it seems her stockbroker did something illegal more than she did, but that's another story) -- but anyway, as peculiar as she is, the lady has talent, and I was always fascinated watching her cook.

   Now when I have digging to do, I start with a pick-axe to break up the ground before I use the shovel. It's amazing how much easier it is, and somehow it reminds me of what Archimedes said: "Give me a place to stand, and I can move the world." Imagining myself a famous Greek mathematician, I have often told my daughters "If you have the right tool you can fix anything," (and they roll their eyes and think "O Lord, there he goes again --)" but now I know that's not entirely correct: You not only need the right tool, you need to know how to use it.

And so, what does knowing a really fantastic way to use a shovel have to do with Martha Stewart or Emeril cooking a souffle, or Barbara Walters or Jim Lehrer or Oprah interviewing a criminal and/or a celebrity, or Venus Williams playing tennis? Perhaps it's simply a job well done is a job well done, and we treasure and appreciate it more than we think.

E. Noel Preston, M.D. is a pediatrician in solo practice in Peachtree Corners. 6063 Peachtree Parkway, Suite 202-A, Norcross. (770) 448-1553.

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