I would like to thank all the bloggers out there that I visit on a daily basis and those that visit me. Those of you who gave me the inspiration to finally get out there and clean up my flower beds. With your work ethics and sense of pride in your gardens, you finally forced me to work in mine. Mostly out of guilt. Okay…totally out of guilt.
So today I went out there armed to the teeth to do a good job. With pruners, gloves, knee mats, rakes, hoes, trash bags, trowels, and shovels I stood there and surveyed the site. Geeeze, this is going to be a huge job, and it would be a lot easier if I had someone to help me. Looking around I see that the 2 neighbors who were outside just moments ago, have now conveniently disappeared (I’m not saying that they’re now hiding inside, but I’m pretty sure that window shade was up before) There is now no one in sight that I might rope into giving me a hand, and I resign myself to the fact that it is just me, all alone in that tangled mess, no one caring if I’m in over my head, sob, sob.
So where do I start? At the beginning I guess, and so I did. Starting right at my feet I began to move slowly forward. Pulling, pushing, muttering some bad words, cutting, digging, cussing, tying, raking, outright swearing, kneeling, standing and kicking. That’s kicking myself for not keeping up with this mess all along so I wouldn’t be in this situation now. Oh oh, be careful in this corner because one year something here caused me to break out in hives (never figured out what), make sure you pull these that are hiding under here and over there and don’t try to pretend that’s a plant because you know it isn’t so dig it out!!
Finally after too many hours I looked upon a clean and neat flower bed. Do I feel a sense of pride, of accomplishment, a good feeling of a job well done? NO. I feel cold, exhausted, sore and cranky. And this was only one flower bed. One out of four. SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!
So thank you people. Thank you for the sore arms, back, knees and hands. Thank you for the dirty, torn fingernails and the dirty, torn jeans (the mats and gloves got discarded somewhere along the way). Thank you for the sneezing, runny nose and itchy eyes. And since sore muscles always feel worse the next day, thank you for tomorrow. When I’m moaning and groaning as I try to get out of bed you can bet I’ll be thinking of you. THANK YOU VERY MUCH.