Sunday, October 9, 2011

Oh No! Squatters are in the Driveway!

Lord have mercy, I have worked today. I don't mean piddling around. I mean hard, constantly lifting, dragging, hauling, digging, pulling work. It was physical labor in the most physical labory way. I worked in my yard, an atrocious catastrophe. From the road, our yard was so unkempt that had it not been for my lovely flower boxes full of blooms, the whole place had the look of an abandoned homestead. I was expecting squatters to show up any day.

You have to understand. I grew up with a father who kept a really nice yard. Oh, it wasn't all landscaped, but it was mowed, raked, weeded all the time. And when I got old enough, I helped him. Daddy was an Air Force officer, so we moved a lot, but that didn't matter. Our yard was always neat and tidy no matter where we lived. Now, I married a man who could care less about how the yard looks. I didn't know this when I married him. Oh, he keeps a great garden, but the yard???.... It's an issue.

He's retired now and I'm not, my choice and the fact that we're digging ourselves out of helping four children go through college. You'd think that he'd get bored and mow the lawn. Nope. He has a great garden, though, so I don't want to make him out to be so bad. He keeps us in veggies throughout the winter, and I don't do any canning, freezing, or anything else so domestic as that. In fact, my husband found out I wasn't very domestic six months into our marriage. My daughter, Heather, on the other hand, is a domestic goddess along with being a top notch photographer.

In the past couple of weeks, though, our yard has looked awful- branches everywhere, high grass, weeds. From the road, it looked even worse, and even though we live in the country, we do have neighbors, and they keep their yards mowed and neat. Even the pasture next to our house is kept mowed. When the guy is out on his tractor mowing, I stay inside if I'm home. I'm too ashamed to go out, plus I may get lost in the jungle which was once a playground for our four children.

Anyway, I decided that I could take it no more. I figured my dad was looking down from wherever he is after he passed away last December and shaking his head. First, I was going to tackle the branches strewn all over the front yard, then I'd lop off some low hanging greenery that smacks me in the face as I go out to the car every morning. I got my wagon and commenced to gathering. Lo and behold, out comes my husband. He said he thought he'd mow a while. Guilt! I made him feel guilty. (Snicker) It works most times. He even got the pick-up truck and helped me load branches on it. It's a straight shift, and I can't drive it. I don't want to drive it, and I make no apologies.

Then my youngest son came home, and he helped me also. He probably felt guilty too, watching his poor old mama haul heavy branches and sawed up apple tree logs. (The tree was hit by lightning and died) Last, I did a little more mowing. Now, my husband is a man who believes in rigging stuff in order to make it work. He doesn't necessarily get things fixed. Our lawnmower is the subject of his rigging. He's wired up the grass shoot, you know, the place where grass shoots out during mowing. The flap doesn't stay up anymore. I have to put a little piece of wire around another couple of thingamabobs so they will be close together. Once that's done, I can start the mower. It's supposed to be self propelled. It was at one time. Well, let me tell ya. It was not self propelled enough for me. Of course, mowing through grass three feet high is a challenge for any mower.

So, I'm finished for the moment. I have scratches all over my arms, like I've hacked my way out of some tropical rain forest, but the yard is shaping up.

I don't think I'll have to worry about squatters any time soon, thank goodness. Well, at least for another couple of weeks.

3 comments:

mybabyjohn/Delores said...

Do you have a dormant season? At least here the snow covers it for a few months (although I hate snow).

Raige Creations said...

our self propelled mower quit self propelling! and yup, hubby and sons just push that difficult thing around the yard, not fixing it. and come to think of it, the lawn is overdue for a mow....

Susan Flett Swiderski said...

Hi-ya. Just followed (followed - not stalked!) you here from Delores' blog. As a fellow Georgia Mary Sunshine baby boomer, I figured I should say howdy. On second thought, I think I'll sign on as a follower, too. We old broads have to stick together.