I finally bit the bullet and hired a guy to come deal with this jungle I loosely call “my yard”.  He looked at the back yard and opined that it might need a bushhog. Yes. It’s that bad.  The front yard is just tall and certain parts need a good weedwhacking. Letting the yard go is one of those things that just…snowballs.  I am looking forward to it being NORMAL…not looking like something where you might find a car on blocks that you forgot about.  I make up all sorts of excuses that sound like “school” and “work” and “broken mower” until it gets to the point people say things like “bushhog” and point to stuff growing up the side of the house.  I didn’t know the cost of stuff like lawn service, so it was easier to just ignore it all. Only, when I’ve been gone a week and have to drive through the neighborhood to get to my house, and I notice all the trim and tailored yards, it makes my own…let’s call it “meadowlike” or maybe “EPA Protected Wetlands” (the front yard can get a soggy spot when it rains a lot. Which it hasn’t been so that isn’t a logical excuse anymore) yard look that much worse and I feel  like I’m THAT neighbor. The one everyone averts their eyes to as they drive by.   I keep hoping they’re thinking “poor widow, doesn’t have time or whatever to take care of the lawn like she used to.” But I know they aren’t because no one really KNOWS I’m a widow except my 2 next door neighbors.  One of them has been very kind in allowing me to borrow his riding mower some, but I feel bad about doing that.   So, I hired the service that cuts the grass of the other next door neighbor. I figure, if he’s in the area, why not do both.

I need to go through The Jungle and make sure there aren’t any errant car parts, bricks, or other mower-trashing items.  I mean…it’s the least I can do since he is risking life and limb, taming my back 40.  Ok not really 40, more like Back 1/2, but still.  I don’t want to be here when they come because it’s embarassing.  I know, everyone says “oh I’ve let my back yard go before, how bad can it be?”  When the yard man says “bushhog” it’s pretty bad. At least there aren’t any cars on blocks. That I am aware of. Which doesn’t mean there isn’t one, only that I don’t know about it because it’s been a good 2 years…seriously…since I have investigated the back yard thoroughly.

You see, Himself’s workshop is back there.  It’s very quiet these days. No sawdust or grinding noises. No Robert Palmer on loud so as to be heard over the noise of shop equipment.  None of that, and it hurts. Still, even 2-1/2 years later. That’s how it is. Time and healing and stuff, but some things still hurt and there isn’t anything that can be done about that.  It helps to imagine that Himself has access to ALL the best equipment now, along with all the time in Eternity to perfect his joinery and choose the perfect pieces of quartersawn oak without the frustration of ugly crooked pieces. That’s how I like to imagine him, it’s what gives me a sense of peace and comfort, to think of him having Eternity to work, no frustration or running out of time, and maybe even The Great Carpenter there with him, bouncing ideas off each other, laughing and planning stuff.

Anyway, the yard will look like someone who cares lives here. That will be nice.


About rootietoot

I do what I can.
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