These Darn Groundhogs Get Bigger Each Year!

It was funny how, after the Hogan Heroes incident, Grandpa or our dads could never seem to find a shovel. They just all disappeared. Hoes and tarps seemed to vanish too — as a matter of fact, a lot of extra materials just wandered away.

We had discovered a new pastime, and we couldn't get enough of it.

We were very lucky that the ground on the farm was of a sandy nature, which made it easy to dig — but you had to go deep to get to an area that wouldn't cave in. So we started digging pits, as deep as we could, building a roof frame almost level with the ground, then covering it with plywood (if we had it) or the tarps we… borrowed. Then we'd cover that with dirt and grass. Almost like it wasn't even there! (snicker)

We got good at it too. We found out that if we took our time and used a flat blade shovel, sliding it under the grass line, we could remove the grass almost like cutting sod. That way, when we covered the tarps with dirt, all we had to do was lay our sod back out. No one knew the difference.

At any given time we might have 3 to 5 tunnels in different areas of the farm, and most of the time we were the only ones who knew where they were. We had tunnels dug into the banks next to the pond, in the cavern in the woods, behind the barn, next to the greenhouse, and the dog lot — y'all already know about that one. But the one that did us in was the one in the orchard, right in front of the two big cedar trees.

We did that one so well — it was within 200 feet of my uncle's house and they never knew it was there. When they saw us out there, they just thought we were playing in the trees.

But of course, all good things have to come to an end.

The day came when Grandpa was driving the Super M tractor across the orchard, and for some unknown reason, his right rear tire started sinking into a hole that just appeared out of nowhere. He — or maybe we — were very lucky it didn't turn over. As I've said before… the language.

Well, we found out that filling in a hole ain't near as much fun as digging one out.

You'd think our tunnel-digging days would have been over after that. But our dads had another idea to cure our need to dig. My uncle's house was a modest brick single-story ranch — without a basement. Well, it didn't have one then.

Our dads thought: if they want to dig, we'll let them dig.

That summer, the three of us dug a complete basement under that house — by hand. The only equipment, other than picks and shovels, was that Super M tractor and a drag pan — a pan with two wooden handles to guide it and a chain to be dragged by the tractor.

Well, you guessed it. After that summer, we had absolutely no desire to dig anymore.

We started cutting down trees and building bridges over every creek. 😂 Got to stay busy.

Thanks for your time, and remember — do yourself a favor, take someone to church Sunday.

Thanks again and God Bless. — Big PaPaw