I totally mowed the lawn yesterday.
And mother said I'm "not good with yardwork."
And the yard really looks quite excellent. Of course, my neighbor Clarence came over and weed-eated it which greatly improved it's overall appearance. And of course, I had to call and ask for directions about how to start the damn lawnmower, but truth be told, I did mow the yard all by myself. And the only casuality was my left foot. It has four huge ant bites, but that's to be expected in Texas and in an untreated yard. Plus now I know to wear tennis shoes.
Please add on to my lawn mowing expertise, weeding my garden today. I watered my tomatoe plants and pulled grass out from around my cacti and cursed weeds from amongst my flowers.
Then I borrowed Clarence's rake and took care of some leaf problems along the side of the house.
Clarence and I had a good chat. Bandit his dog was out working with him too. I need a dog. Not now though, I've got enough to handle.
It's amazing. I think I mowed the yard once growing up. I hated it. Amy loved it. Mom always martyred herself to do it. And sometimes dad mowed too when mom had some other laborious chore to execute. So I never really had to. Someone else always took care of it. Even at Northridge Drive where we were expected to mow the yard, I didn't cause I'm allergic to grass and it just didn't seem like fun. I'd rather buy an extra month's supply of toilet paper or trash bags than take my turn to mow the yard.
But now that I'm a proud home-owner, things are different. I like to mow the yard. I don't plan on paying anyone to do it for me. I like to make my garden look nice. Who knew? Who knew that this nose-in-a-book-i'd-rather-play-make-believe-than-play-sports-or-mow-the-yard girl would ever be where she is today?
I understand something now about a sense of ownership, of taking pride in what you've accomplished, of how desparate one must feel when the government or war or banks threaten to take that away from you.
Home ownership. I love it.
All but the antbites.