The Weed Patch Between Love And Hate

There are little gems of beauty everywhere that have been obscured by everyday life.

I have always had a love/hate relationship with yard work. Especially mowing. I like doing it for the most part. I like getting outside for a bit and knowing that after a couple of hour's work I can look at something and think to myself, “Yeah I did that. Damn I'm good.” I have learned that about myself.

I first learned how to mow at seventeen. My parents bought a farm. No, I'm not an orphan. They didn't buy the farm, they bought a farm. Forty plus acres of a farm that had potential, is in a beautiful setting, but that had fallen into disrepair. We all had to pull together to get it going. Mom and Dad started with a push mower. So as a teenager fresh out of high school, not ready for college, with a head full of dreams and no clue how to implement them...I was taught how to help mow. The argument that I was a female and was delicate didn't fly for a second. Mom and Dad believe that males and females all need to learn the same life skills...mowing included.

Dad explained the principles, took the first shift so that I could watch, Mom took a run at it too, then I tried my hand. They would stop me after about twenty minutes to cool off, explain a few things, and take over. I would watch. By the end of the second session my dad and I were competing with each other and comparing blisters. It is one of my most cherished memories.

With that in mind, mowing is a good thing.

On the other hand...if I had known at seventeen that I would be spending entire summers planning my days around heat indexes and thunderstorms at forty-six because I'm a regular person who can't afford a landscaper all of the time...excuse me, any of the time, I might have put up more of a fight.

I have to confess that during the last few weeks I have been...contemplating cooler temperatures and the end of yard work for a bit. Okay...whining. There might have been a little bit of whining. The first day of Fall has come and gone. It looks like next week the season will start showing more of itself with cooler temperatures and rainy days. I find myself feeling nostalgic. Today may be one of my last mowing days. It feels a little weird. It took all summer. It always does. No two summers are alike. A whole summer of stressing, guessing, and bitching to adjust to doing the work every few days. Will it ever stop raining enough to plant some flowers? How many flowers do I want? Getting up on Saturday or Sunday morning, sipping coffee and admiring my work. Enjoying what lies just outside of my window. Soon it will be gone.

Three hours found. Three hours (at least) of time returned to me. At first, I will be completely at a loss as to what to do with them. I have a list of...activities. Work to be done inside the house, pieces of writing to work on, baking, favorite movies (I have several that I watch during the month before Halloween). Halloween is coming. There is so much to do. Every Fall when that separation from the outside occurs I find it unsettling.
 The season isn't quite over yet. Is it?
  I look out at my yard and take in the results of my labor. The brightly colored flowers, trimmed hedges, and freshly cut grass that only cost me a bit of my time, energy, and a few dollars in gas. I appreciate this little gem of beauty tucked in around all of my every day things.
 What does your gem look like?