My Yard of Shame

We live in a somewhat pretentious neighborhood, qualified by the fact that it is rural South Carolina and really there is only a certain attainable level of pretension. We have small children and do our own yardwork. Unfortunately, at times these things can be mutually exclusive. I was quite pregnant, last summer. Wait, that doesn’t paint a very accurate picture; let me try again. There are times when God takes a magnifying glass and places it between the sun and the earth. That magnified beam of sunlight focuses on my corner of the world from June through September. Typically, I revel in summer, it is my absolute glory. However, when I’m seven, eight, and nine months pregnant it loses its luster. I did not plan on doing it twice, it just happened that way.

Needless to say, the yard was neglected, last year.

March is weed season, the gass is still dormant, but the weeds grow like wildfire. Well, they do in my yard. Our yard isn’t huge, but as I do laps with the lawnmower I feel it stretching and mocking me. Last week, I became disgusted with the condition of our lawn. Well, lawn is probably not accurate as that connotates the actual existence of grass. I enjoy mowing the yard; it is the perfect excuse to be left alone. I’ve been doing some research and think the mulching mower we’ve used for the past couple of years has probably been making our weed problem worse. So, I borrowed our neighbor’s rear bagger. I will miss them; they are moving to Delaware. I hadn’t cut more than one hundred square feet when it died.

As I can’t mow the lawn during the day when Tim is at work, the yard weighed heavily on me, all week long. The weeds got taller. I quit taking Sir Thousand hands outside because I could only monitor his whereabouts by the rustling of the weeds. Cars on blocks sprouted, worn out tires and old appliances appeared. I took to wearing dark sunglasses and avoided eye contact with the neighbors.

Finally, Saturday dawned; I anticipated the drying of the dew. I waited until a reasonable hour and called my neighbor to borrow the lawnmower. They are trying to sell their home, so they were thrilled I was finally going to take care of the mess. About halfway through the baby was hungry, so Tim agreed to finish. He made maybe two laps around the yard before it died on him.

So, the yard had a few more hours with which to tease me. Tim came home with a lawnmower and now I feel positively spoiled. I am so stoked, this one has power drive. I hope this will be the last time we are the the disgrace of the neighborhood.

0 comments ↓

There are no comments yet...Kick things off by filling out the form below.

Leave a Comment