After my grandfather died, I went by Papa's house one afternoon and found Ellen in the backyard up to her knees in a hole she had been digging.  I watched a second and then asked what the heck she was doing.  She said she wanted to see what was down there.  We had been preached to since any of Papa's grandchildren could understand "no" not to go around the hole in the yard.  It had been covered over the years by various rocks, wood chunks, concrete, overgrown bushes, etc. and we were told not to go around it because it was deep and had a broken sewer pipe down there that Papa had once replaced.  I didn't contemplate very long before I grabbed a pick ax and started helping.  We traded licks just like you see on tv, she shoveled and I picked.  After some time and several rest periods we stood almost waist deep in a hole in the yard and hit something hard.  A treasure! so we thought.  You know what was at the bottom of that hole? A broken sewer pipe.  After laughing at ourselves til we were crying we began to refill the hole.  It wasn't near as much fun filling it up as it was digging it out. I will miss our many adventures.