So, I cleaned up my flower beds and raked along the fence line. I uncovered a giant toad, which made me laugh until I realized that I might also uncover a snake. Not so funny.
And then? Then, I turned to the oft-forgotten landscaping alongside my garage. You know that landscaping – the prickly bushes surrounded by cheap, broken edging? The area with the giant clumps of grass and multiple volunteer trees popping through the crappy old mulch? That landscaping?
Now, just let me say that this was all the doing of the previous homeowner. Crappy plastic edging that is supposed to look like wood but really looks like crappy plastic is not my taste. And for the last three and a half years, I’ve wanted to pull it out, clean out the bed, and get things right. And yesterday was just the sort of day when a tiny bit of leaf removal snowballs into a major project.
I pulled up the edging. I dug up weeds and grass and crappy mulch. I dug and dug and dug up volunteer trees – which, really? Shouldn’t be called volunteer trees. They should be called thug trees. They are not welcome and aren’t good for property values.
Now, it’s spring and the weather is beautiful, and this weekend was ideal for working outside. But let’s go back to one very important detail: the bushes in this bit ‘o landscaping have thorns.
So, not only am I practically unable to walk from all of this work, but I’m also scratched all to hell. Yes, I was wearing long sleeves and long pants. Yes, I have a deep sliver in my foot that I can’t get out. Yes, my arms look like I was attacked by a rabid cat.
So, the whole time I was trying to hold back these thorny bushes while digging up weeds and staking landscaping cloth, I was also composing a letter. At first, it was just to the crazy lady who lived in my house before me. She’s the one who used giant wall anchors to hold up the hook that held her Swiffer. I’ve felt animosity for her before, but this time, I feel that this is really more of a global issue. So, this is an open letter to the homeowners of America.
Do not, under any circumstances, plant bushes, shrubs, or foliage of any sort that has thorns, stickers, or any pokey kind of appendage. Sure, the plants might look nice. They might even be on sale. But unless you are immortal and / or in a seriously sick and sad immovable funk, someone else will live in your house after you do. And if you have bushes or shrubs with thorns or stickers? That person will hate you. And karma’s a bitch.
So, bad attitude, destroyed flesh, and stiff muscles aside, I managed to complete the landscaping. And with the exception of My Guy’s assistance in loading the edging into and out of my car, I did it all by myself.
New pavers as trim? Check. Fresh new mulch? Check. Exhausted yet hideously inflated ego? Check.
I felt a great sense of accomplishment until I rounded the corner after cleaning up the last of my mess.
And I found this.
Foxie Doxie is not a digger. But it’s almost like karma is preventing me from getting too big for my home ownership britches. I’m so tired, though, that I just left the hole. I left it, and went inside and almost made myself sick eating Starburst jellybeans. Happy Easter!