OK, it’s a guy thing

I think what separates the old and settled from the young and carefree isn’t age, career-path, or even a certain wisdom. No, it’s guys.
Having guys, specifically.
You know you are grown, old and truly settled when you realize you have a “guy” to do virtually anything you might need doing and that you have, in fact, subcontracted your very existence.
Deep. I didn’t know I had guys until recently. As consummate do-it-yourselfers, I would have sworn we were the model of self-sufficiency. Then Mr. Wonderful and I purchased a swimming pool and realized we were way in over our heads.
Even though we a) never owned an actual, permanent, non-inflatable swimming pool before; and b) had not even the most passing idea of how to install, equip, or maintain such a thing, we forged ahead willy-nilly. That, after all, is our usual MO.
After we purchased the swimming pool, we got down to the business of actually figuring out what we would do with the thing if, and when, we ever actually got it home.
Turns out, large vessels holding thousands of gallons of water have to be really, really level. Now “level” means, of course, that everything is basically straight. No curves. No bends. No hills.
I have to concur that this seems just about right for a swimming pool, surely. What it doesn’t seem just about right for is our home.
Our land has a lot of things going for it – most of them hills.
Level isn’t really a term you run into much around here. The land dips and swerves and just generally rolls all around the place. It was an orchard, and we have it on good authority that the apples and peaches never minded that much. The swimming pool, however, is shaping up to be a real diva about it.
Level ground? As if!
Guys. This, then, is where the guys come in. As in “we have a guy