Carol Jane Remsburg
When did this happen? Just four days ago we were having temps in the freezing digits. Less than a month ago it was snowing. Suddenly, everything is growing with a frenzy matched only by sharks in chum-filled waters.
Okay, so everyone else on the planet by yesterday has manicured their lawns at least twice and I haven't even begun. Oh the shame of it!
It's nearing the end of April and the temperatures have been fluctuating like they always do only a little less than normal this year. It's been a chilly winter and a slow-to-start spring. It's been cold more often than not but over the last two to three weeks something amazing has happened. Despite the freezing temps and the cold winds, things are turning green. Moreover, things are growing—like the grass!!!
At the end of March I made a passing mention to the man-of-the-house concerning the upcoming warm season and our duty as homeowners not to begin another season of lawn and yard care with sloth. I was advised that we needed, or rather he needed, to sharpen the blades, change the oil, and in general service that aging mower of ours. (On the list of my wifely duties: wife, mother, house-cleaner, chief-cook-bottle washer, bill-payer, finance engineer, laundry expert, medical tech, computer geek, chauffeur, shopper for the family, mediator, letter-writer, yard worker and mower, and gofer-in-general—servicing of the mower does NOT fall under my category of duties no matter how you swing it.)
It does fall under what I deem: A Daddy Job. That's what I always tell my daughter. While I can replace batteries and fiddle just enough with an overhead light/vent fixture to remove it, clean it, and reconnect it—I'm not going much farther. I don't dare. I know my "challenge" areas and this isn't one of them.
Therefore, I've watched with growing, rather sprouting, alarm as the greenery of the crabgrass that is our yard has thrived. Its encroachment is predatory and jungle-like.
I didn't mind it when the early birds began—right after that initial ¼ inch spurt. They are out there every year at it when the ground is still frozen. However, once everyone else made their second pass—like over the last two days and we still haven't cleared away the deadfall from the trees to even begin . . . well, embarrassment is my primary emotion.
Earlier this week I did readdress this issue with hubby. I was reassured twice that all would be well. The last week of April is his vacation and he'd be doing lots of things around the house while Erin was in school and I was at work. That bit of roof will get fixed finally, the back porch will get straightened away, washed down and newly painted, and the yard would be spiffed up.
So why was I hoping that the mower would get primed today? It's his vacation right? Oh, I forgot it was Sunday and the NASCAR race was on. It must have been tomorrow he meant for the mower. Therefore, it also means that I can work an ugly Monday, for aren't all Mondays fun, and then come home to deal with the yard, dinner, dishes, parenting, and more laundry.
For some reason, this scenario doesn't sound all that appealing. If the above actually happens, then the yard will wait at least one more day before I deal with it. I just hope it doesn't rain again! If it does, then I won't have an overgrown yard, I'll have a marsh.
Hmm, at least you don't have to mow a marsh. Boating could become an option.