Let me at......
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....those pain pills.
Whoa who the hell has been beating on me with a ball bat. Oh yeah. Now I remember.
The lot our house sits on has never been landscaped. In fact since construction 8 years ago, except for just a little grass front and back the rest of the lot had been allowed to regrow in briar's, bushes and small trees.
The wife wanted to get out there and whack it all down with small hand pruners.
The girl just doesn't want to wait till funds allow hiring a skid steer loader to push everything up by the roots so at least most of it won't return.
Well yesterday was the big day. Loader was delivered about 4:30. Since then I've been riding the bucking bronco from hell with not the best muffler system. I've got aches and sore spots in places I'd forgotten I had. Fortunately there were still a few of the pain pills left over from my carpal tunnel procedure last year. Just waiting for them to kick in.
'
But at least the jungle has been pushed back for now. Before pictures at top. After at bottom. Now if I can just find some Kudzu sprouts to plant, I'll be good to go.
Wonder how that will go over? Probably about as good as when she came out and found the bench had a broken leg. No "way to go babe, the yard sure looks better". No just "you broke my bench leg!!" Like I can't get it welded.
Thank goodness kudzu grows quickly. 
2 comments:
wow... what a difference! It looks like a park. Beautiful.
Hope those leftover pain meds did the trick, Larry.
Wow--it looks truly amazing!! My muscles hurt from just comparing the two pics! ;) My ex was against using any kind of "chemical" on weeds, so I spent most of my 'old life' gardening time (Sat/Sun of nearly every weekend) on fighting with the NE bramble vines. Finally I secretly bought the stuff you paint on the vine stump b/c I never had time to do anything else but fight with those monster berry vines. :)
"came out and found the bench had a broken leg. No "way to go babe, the yard sure looks better". No just "you broke my bench leg!!""
We humans get ourselves into the worst habits--we become immune to how we speak to those we share our lives with. See it's easy for me to praise your good works and your good writing. The hard part is not snapping at my mother when I'm irritated at something she does or says! (I'm visiting the folks this week).
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