As I kid, I wanted to be like Mike (Mulligan) and own a big and beastly steam shovel just like his. Instead of naming her, “Mary Anne”, it would’ve been a “he” named, “Jack The Rock Ripper”. Perhaps a name better suited for a monster truck…or WWE wrasler.

My mama used to pray I would one day find a job I loved. Although I don’t own a steam shovel, nor do I enjoy the company of anyone, imaginary or real, named, “Jack The Rock Ripper”, I’m thankful I’m privileged to work in a business where the Mike Mulligans of the world are just as fiercely determined and deeply passionate about their vocation as the story book character.

In the sandboxes of life, I guess we should all find places to dig our own holes. I think it’s as important to grow down as it is to grow up. Our lives need grounding. We need roots. Most of all, we need a cellar, just like Mike’s and Mary Anne’s, not to hide our unmentionables, but to plant our memories of great friendships, time with family, and accomplishments we’ve achieved along the way. Why? Because these things become the compost that feeds our soul and nourishes our spirit.

So, go dig ya’ some holes. Have fun with it and then stuff ’em full with all the goodness and joy life offers and then, just wait. Just wait and watch the seeds germinate to produce bushels full of fruit. You never know, you might just meet someone who’s diggin’ empty holes with a broken steam shovel and needs a bushel or two of good compost to help their own seeds push roots down and germinate life up.

Ya’ Dig?