Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Girl vs Grass

Mother Nature and I are at impasse.  Everything in my yard is growing except vegetables.  I have four squash so far, and I think there might be mold on one of them and a dead leaking bug in another.  There are wasps making a nest in my butterfly covered wind chime and over one of my bedroom windows.  When I tried to get back in the house tonight there were two spiders guarding the door.  I killed something out of a Halloween decoration in my garage the other day.  

The center of all my despair, believe it or not, is not the bugs.  The center of my despair is the jungle/grass/garden/weed patch.   Tonight I did battle with the lawn.  I started this fight on Friday night and it was already so tall that I would mow two feet, lift the mower up for air.  Mow two feet, pull my should out starting the mower again because the grass choked it.  Imagine a fat girl in plaid shorts and a green tank top flailing her arms back and forth trying to get the lawn mower to work.  Eventually I lifted it up the front for oxygen, hunched over propped it up several inches in an attempt to make it work better.  The grass is taking over and winning the battle.  Friday night, tired from work, I gave up after the front yard was done, and went in for the night, fully intending to go back out there and get the backyard the next day.

God and my body had other plans.  I woke up the next day and discovered why old people say never trust a fart after forty---I ain't forty, but it was not my day to trust a fart.   I did not get any yard work done that weekend.  Sunday it turned into puke and get dizzy and sleep all day.  Monday I stayed in bed hoping it was mostly over with.  Tuesday I was just giddy to be back at work against doctor's orders.

I batted my eyes at the personal lines manager and said that I felt a lot better and I was bored out of my mind....  I even missed church because of this plague.  Church and a champagne brunch.  I was not sitting at home bored out of my mind with nothing do for another day.

Today was payday, YAY, and I managed to keep everything somewhat under control and still buy new nail polish.  I came home still feeling great and decided to start on The Jungle.   My backyard has fallen tree limbs, grass you could lose a dog in, and weeds that are trying to get taller than me that just won't go away.  The yard is a minefield thanks to Dorky and Del, my two larger, younger dogs, and is dangerous to "gimp ankle girl" to start with.  If you're wondering who that is, it's me.  I have a perpetually messed up ankle.  Long story, but the minefield terrifies me when it catches my foot.  So the grass and weeds are in full jungle mode, there are holes all over the yard, giant piles of Dork-Poo you can't see for the grass, and my tree has been shedding. 

Did I mention that there's a limb blocking the gate from opening that I have to move to start with?  I had cleaned the under carriage of the mower the last time when I was finishing up.  This thing is....clean.... for that poor sad mower.  It's sad because it lives with me.  Me and Dork.  Dork has teeth... I fire up the motor.  It resists.  It knows the foliage is horrible and thick and a little damp.  I start it up with a mighty pull of my rotator cuff.   I mow.  I get it up the hill to the thick part.  The mowing becomes a repeat of Friday night---with Dork Poo this time.   I mow two feet, lift the mower up, mow two feet, it dies.   I slide on dog mess I didn't see coming.  With a herculean thrust I start the bloody thing.  Mow two feet, it dies. It goes on like this for several passes.   Finally it dies and I can't start it again.  I despair.  I tip it up on its side and clean it off very thoroughly.    I try to start it.  I check, there's gas, I start to throw my shoulder out again and I finally decide that the sun is going down, the mower is tired and so am I, and I might as well cut down the weeds.  I do this for about twenty minutes before going back to the front yard to find two spiders making webs on my front porch.

Mother Nature has declared war on Les..........

Imma doomed.  Doomed.

On a related note, anybody want to come over with a riding lawn mower and a machete?  There's $40 and fresh bread in it for you...

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