Welcome To My Garden Of Doom

Angela took off to Mongomery, Alabama, yesterday. I dropped her off at the airport at 5:30am because of all the security checks that people need to go through. Her flight didn’t leave until 8am but everyone is showing up much earlier to be herded through the poking, prodding and x-raying. That left me and the pooches alone until Thursday when she returns. After a morning of breakfast and romping around at the dogpark (Hi, Hotchick Erin with the yellow lab!), the boys and I took a nap and promised each other that I would cut the grass in the backyard when we woke up. We should have stayed in bed.

First off, I had this great idea a few weeks ago to regrow grass that had been worn away by the dogs by putting down grass seed and some rich gardening soil. Well, I should have kept it moist and I probably should have covered it with straw rather than leave it exposed to the sun and the elements. Instead, it was a nice, dry pack of dirt. With seeds. And when I hit it with the lawn mower I created a giant cloud of dust that caused me to gag. The dogs ran to the other side of the yard rather than get caught up in the noxious cloud.

And while they were there, they decided to poop. Which I didn’t see when I eventually reached that end of the yard and subsequently ran over the poop landmine with the mower. This caused it to explode and fly all over the place, including my shins. And then, to top it all off, I step in it.

Wait, that doesn’t top it all off. This does: I cut the grass later in the evening so that it would be cool enough for me and the boys to be outside together. Well, evidently this was also cool enough for a snake which popped up in my path. It. Was. Horrible. I screamed like a little girl and the dogs looked at me like I was a murderer. From that point on they sat on the deck, fearful that their daddy was going to run over them.

And I have weeds. Not just itty bitty weeds, but large weeds which have grown the size of a small tree. Seriously. A few of these damn things are between 3-4 feet tall.

I sorta miss apartment living. No yard. No muss. You put a hole in the wall and someone comes and fixes it for you.