This afternoon I decided to be a nice renter and do a bit of gardening. Whatever! I am always a nice renter (wink, wink, cough, cough) and I do enjoy gardening quite a bit. So…..back track to last fall.
When we moved into this house the lawn and other such outdoor things appeared to be fairly well-kept. Not unlike the rest of the house, that too, appeared well-kept. Appeared being the operative word here. After countless hours of trimming and pruning late last summer and early fall I quickly realized that this yard was maintained only so much as to appear loved.
Fast forward back to this afternoon and I am one sweaty, hot mess pulling into the driveway after a fun-filled sweat fest at the gym with my peeps. I could see the killer storm clouds rolling in from the west and I thought: “Hey there sweaty lady, you should totally charge your camera because it would rock to get more sweet lightening pictures. Oh, and the real reason we’re having this inner monologue is that this lawn would look freakishly amazing after a rain storm if it was freshly trimmed just prior to it. You (yes, I am still talking to myself) should give the front yard quick trim before you take a shower. I mean, look at yourself. You stink, which is strange because you look amazing; even through all that sweat and frazzled hair. I’m pretty sure fresh-cut grass would only add to the aroma and overall amazing look you are rocking right now.” What was a girl to do? I can’t argue with myself when I’m making such a valid argument.
Unfortunately I have an electric mower and considering the fact that we had snow on the ground this time last week, and that we have endured eight months of winter….it is not charged. So, I plugged it in, gassed it up, checked the oil, rotated the tires, brushed off the cobwebs, spit on it, and reattached the handle bar (I removed it to make room in the garage over the winter). Then I pushed it into the corner and slumped away. Sure I am allergic to cut grass, well, grass in general but cut grass makes it worse, but that has never stopped me before. I am wicked anal about the yard; which sucks in this particular house.
Since I couldn’t mow, I decided to pull the weeds that had miraculously shot up faster than a teenage boy looking at a Playboy magazine.
I have learned from the neighbors that the home owners were very particular about their rose bushes. Really?! I would have NEVER GUESSED. I’m not being sarcastic either. As with the inside of this house, the yard and gardens only looked well-kept. None of the beds have plastic sheeting under them….who does that?! Lovers of weeds perhaps, or total cheap morons.
I started pulling a few weeds and dead branches out of the bushes when I realized they had probably never pruned or thinned out the shrubs. Ugh. Come on people…you trim your own hair to help it grow. Duh.
The rose bushes, as you may know, are not exactly bare hand friendly. And the insane thorn monster plants planted alongside them made the rose bushes look as smooth as a baby’s backside. I gloved up.
I spent two hours trimming and weeding two rose bushes and two thorn bushes. I’m sure the thorn bush has an actual name; however, I have yet to see it produce anything other than thorns. Had the home owners been thinking, they would have planted these skin mutilating plants under all the windows. Who knows if it would keep the riff raff out; however, I am certain it would keep the kids in.
My arms look like I am into self-mutilation. Yes they are all scratched up, blood may have been involved on more than one instance, and I may have said a few choice words from time to time. Not helping is the fact that I am allergic to darn near everything that grows in Minnesota, so, all those scratches are red and puffy. Awesome.
Every idiot knows that you need to prune and meticulously maintain a garden if you want it to blossom and be beautiful. Imagine my surprise when I realized these plants hadn’t been pruned in a long, long, long time. If ever. Well, not ever because I did prune them last fall while they were green, these brown and lifeless branches posed a whole new level of fun. No worries, I got that! I went to pruning town. Branches growing into the ground and not up…what?! Chop those babies off and let the plant use the energy towards those branches that want to perform. It’s like running a business: if you are slow to perform or a non-performer then I’m sorry, but I’ll have to let you go. Bu-buy!
Fast forward again to today (yeah, I took two days off for laziness) and I am finishing this blog for the SECOND time. Yeah, I finished it and published it once already today. Did you like it? Me too!! I liked it so much I removed all traces of it from the internet and decided to start over from this point in the blog. You know, sometimes it’s fun to recreate the pure awesomeness you just lost because of a server error.
While I was in the bushes I noticed a spiraling, swirling vine that mirrored a snake slithering through the trees in the jungle. This sucker was all over the entire garden. In fact, had I not known any better I would have removed the rose bushes and left the vine. It was that thick. People this is a weed. It will grow and slither its way through all your plants and like a Boa Constrictor, it will strangle and suffocate the life right out of them until you are left with a brown, thorny, flowerless garden. In the owners defense, I can only assume they thought this flowering green vine that grows freakishly faster than fungus on an ingrown toenail in the hot, steamy sun was some amazing miracle plant that they had, in fact, planted alongside their roses.
It is not a plant. It is a weed. A weed I tell you. And not even one you can smoke. Well, I guess you could smoke it if you wanted to but….
This blog was way better before I lost the information. I mean WAY BETTER. And yes I checked my auto save folder and drafts. Where do you think I found the first half of the blog (rhetorical question folks, no need to get snarky and answer it)?
Oh well, it’s your loss because I already knew how awesome this once was. Now I’m in a pissy mood so I’ll just wrap it all up in one tight little package, not unlike the freaking weed I eradicated from the garden. The home owners can thank me later when their garden rivals the rose garden at the White House, or not.
Not is fine too.