Be patient little one

I mean Beth, not Sam. Does harassment lead to just any old post or to a GOOD post?

I have been mulling over some things but they’re rather dull. Do you care that a week ago Sunday it was snowing here and on Sunday it was sunny and about 70 degrees? Probably not but I certainly care. We spent the majority of the weekend outside. I think it’s required since it’s so rarely this nice here.

Nice weather = yard work. I’d like to pretend that what I do in our yard is gardening but the truth is that in the limited time I have to garden I’m mostly trying to tame the wilderness or keep the lawn mowed. Planting is a luxury that I rarely get to do other than planting bulbs I buy in fundraisers hurriedly and in inappropriate places with Boo. I’m hoping and expecting my time is less limited this year than last since it appears a three year old has more sense and doesn’t require the same level of supervision as a two year old. Oh, and his bike keeps him very, very occupied while I’m swearing at overgrown bushes and plants.

This weekend I spent hours and hours on attempting to rip prickly bushes from along our foundation. The people who lived here before us seemed to think that a very good location for extremely fast growing, clothing and skin grabbing bushes is right next to the driveway. The added bonus is that every time we got out of the car we got caught on bushes, sort of the way I keep catching my shirt on the little nail on the doorframe and tell myself I’m going to get a hammer and pound it in. But I always forget until the next time and now about half my shirts have a small hole in the right upper arm. (Mental note to self: pound in that damn nail.)

Every time the bushes would bite me I’d make a note to annihilate them but the time never seemed right. First there was Sam not giving me time, then the boat was parked there forever which meant the bushes weren’t biting and weren’t on the priority list. Then its winter and even while I’m cursing their existence as a shoveling obstacle I know I can’t do anything about it until summer. But the stars must have aligned perfectly this weekend and I had the time, weather, and desire to make my dream come true.

My efforts required lots of swearing, an ax, my neighbor’s saw, my saw, a rake, my gloves, my garden cart, my nearly sacrificed-to-the-bush-gods shovel, and lots of time but now when I look at the spot where the bushes used to be I get a sense of satisfaction and a knowledge that all is well. The only problem is that I now have to decide what to plant in that area. Oh, and the big pile of brush on the driveway. I strategically placed the pile to be a motorcycle navigational pain in hopes that Ben will be motivated to bring to the yard waste depot. We shall see.