I hate my lawn.
I’ve heard other guys say that, but they were referring to the fact that their lawn wasn’t perfect. I hate my lawn because it exists.
My wife doesn’t realize it, but I don’t plant pine trees all around our property because I love pine trees. I plant pine trees all around our property because pine needles kill grass. Dead grass doesn’t need to be mowed.
I hate mowing. Mowing is such a waste of time. Time I will never get back.
My mowing lines aren’t straight. That’s partly due to the fact that mowing is so boring. To make it funner, I pretend that my lawnmower is a getaway car and I’m being chased around the yard by the cops.
When I get tired of running from the police, I mow all the areas left where the police didn’t chase me.
I hate weed whacking too. I hate weed whacking even more than mowing ever since the “barefoot weed whacking toe massacre” incident. Now I make sure to wear shoes.
Maybe I’ll like my lawn more when I retire. Maybe then I will actually like time spent mowing. But until then . . . . I hate my lawn.
Ahh spring. I think it’s finally here. I know because my driveway has turned into a great expanse of mud,
The first signs of carpenter ants leaving their long winter hibernation and venturing out for a stroll across the living room floor and walls were spotted by my wife yesterday.
Happily I will greet them, welcome them to spring time, and then squash them and spray deadly chemicals at them.
Spring brings on a new season of yard work as well. I can see the weeds pushing up through the mulch, trying to get a head start on strangling my landscape plants. I plot their demise.
I actually mowed a section of lawn this weekend. Not so much because the grass had grown enough to really need mowing . . . . More because I use the mowing of grass as an excuse to mow up a whole winter’s worth of dog poop.
That way it pretty much disappears without my having to scoop it. Well, I guess it doesn’t actually disappear, but at least it gets mulched up small enough that I can pretend it disappears.
The windows in the house will soon be wide open to let the fresh air in . . . . And the sounds of any family arguments and tantrums out for all the neighbors to hear.
But spring also means the return of bare feet, bonfires, fishing, and a trip to the ice cream stand.
Welcome spring! I’m glad you are here.