Simple Pleasures, #24
You know what I’m enjoying lately? Getting my butt out in the yard! You can probably imagine the sideways look I gave to Colby when he came running into the house a few days ago with a triumphant face proclaiming his victory about being allowed to put vegetable beds in our neighbors’ yards. Yes, um, that’s great, but what about our yard? How’s about we go ahead and fix it up before delving into gussy-up projects on other peoples’ property? (Just a thought.) I understand the rhetoric; don’t get me wrong. We have very little sunlight in our yards (front & back) and can’t grow food-stuffs. It’s time to plant, and that time, it is a-wastin’. I totally get it. But really, now. Our yard needs some help, and it would seem to take priority in my little ole humble opinion.
When I say our yard, by the way, I’m really only talking about most of our front yard- the part I can manage myself that excludes the giant tool trailer that has been parked in the driveway for the last two years. (I have no say except a useless nag from time to time that falls on deaf or maybe just selective-hearing ears). The back yard, on the other hand, is a sad and hopeless wasteland in which I have zero jurisdiction. It’s like the apocalypse back there. Oh, the back yard… its fence line flanked with cruddy hack-berry trees and limping chain-link, minefields of dog crap, uneven terrain, rotting construction materials, fallow gas tanks and toilets, all alongside forgotten remnants of the time when we almost had it landscaped… I have given up on ever using that atrocity, that pathetic excuse for a back yard. Sure, it’d be nice to have a place where the girl could run around, climb things, play with balls or maybe even a slide, but alas… every time I open the back door the theme from Sanford and Son starts playing!
And so it is that my attention is turned to our front yard and the parts that I can actually access. I’ve begun my clean-up of all the winter leaves that fell, and started to notice a few verdant bits here and there that are making their come-back. Colby decided he wanted a couple of small, raised beds installed and actually made a the boxes already! Grand! (The giant planter boxes in our next-door neighbor’s yard are also ready for dirt. And I’m sure the ones across the street are next…) I do have to admit that Colby came up with a good schedule for getting his garden work done. There’s about an hour each evening when I need the kitchen cleared of toddlerness to make dinner, and that is a really pleasant time to be outside. He’s been taking Colette out with him to “help” make the garden boxes. Everyone on the street loves that kid to pieces, so she’s having a blast being outdoors, visiting, finding worms, getting dirty, and perhaps even learning a thing or two about nature (as much as one can within the city limits).
I’ve been getting to the front yard as much as I can… a half hour here, 40 minutes there… and it’s starting to look a tad more organized! Leaves are disappearing, mulch can now be seen with cast iron and purple heart tenaciously asserting their top-dog positions in the beds. Seriously, those plants are incredibly hearty and just don’t give a crap if it’s 2 degrees or 200 degrees outside. Soon I’ll have a little photo montage for you people to show the progress! The back yard may never have any sort of real attention paid to it as long as we’re in this house. I concede already! But the front… it shall be beautiful once again!
