The problem with a beautiful fall day, like it was on Sunday, is one is compelled to work outside. I just wasn’t feeling like doing garden work, but I suddenly had the urge to rebuild my campfire pit.

There was nothing wrong with the actual fire pit, it was the seating that was a bit awry. People kept tipping backward because the ground was uneven around the pit. I decided it was time to remedy it.

My only obstacle? My husband.

I had a vision. I had a dream. I didn’t need him to help me with the physical work, but I wanted to rent a rototiller.

“That won’t work, there’s too many rocks.”

“Rocks are good, it will keep the ground stable.”

“You’ll have to pick the rocks out because you’ll never be able to mow over it. What are you going to do with the rocks?”

“I don’t need to go that deep, I just need to loosen the soil on the top. By the time I’m done there won’t be any grass to mow anyway.”

“I don’t want to start another project with ALL the other projects we’ve got going.”

“What other projects.”

“The shed rebuild.”

“What about the shed? I have nothing to do with the shed.”

“It needs to be painted and door frame supports cemented.”

“Well, we can’t paint it now, it’s wet from all the rain and needs to dry out a couple days, nor would I be in the way if you decide to work on it today.

So after taking the fire pit apart and attempting to dig it out myself, I determined I just couldn’t do it without some mechanical intervention. My husband was flailing around trying to decide what to do with himself, so I said,

“The neighbor is home, why don’t you ask him if you should buy cement on our way to rent a rototiller.”

“It won’t work.”

Then the neighbor, who built the shed, came over to assess what he’d need to make a door support and then, get this, my husband “told on me.”

“Gretch wants to dig around the fire pit and make it level. She thinks a rototiller would work.” He may as well have added how ridiculous he thought the idea was, but he passive-aggressively skirted around it thinking the neighbor would also think my idea ludicrous.

The neighbor’s reply, “Can’t hurt to try.”

So we rented a rototiller and guess what? It did exactly what I thought it would do. There were hardly any rocks. After a few passes with the rototiller digging up the seating area, the neighbor took a look and said, “Keep going around until it’s all soft, then it won’t be as much work to rake it.”

Then my husband commented, like it was his idea, “Make the rototiller do the work for you.”

After I was finished, hosed off the rototiller and raked the area, the kids came out and stomped it all over. I raked, they stomped and it is perfect. They were so excited about a nice, new campfire pit, so they told me if we got the new stones right then, they’d place them.

I called my husband, who had gone to return the Rototiller, and told him the dimensions of the fire pit so he could buy the stones. He bought them and the kids created the pit.

To celebrate, I made meatball sandwiches and we sat around the table for a rare Sunday dinner. It’s very exciting; I can hardly wait to burn something.

My husband will just have to do for now. He should know better than to argue with me. Oh burn!

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her daily blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh.”