Ah! The smell of freshly cut grass.
Even though spring arrived weeks ago, I had yet to crank the ol’ lawn mower and remove her from her resting place to take a spin around our yard. Son-in-law Ryan mowed our lawn for us several times at my wife’s request.
This past weekend was beautiful. The temperature was pleasant, there was a nice breeze blowing and the time seemed right to crank the green girl and give the yard a trim. Next came the shrill sound of the grass trimmer. Saturday, I cut until all of the overgrown grass and weeds around the house were gone.
A freshly manicured lawn gives the homeowner who tends to it personally a great sense of satisfaction, plus it makes the neighborhood look better. I may care less about that when the scorching heat of summer bears down.
Krista and I enjoyed some front-porch sitting Sunday morning and she admired my handiwork, complimenting my attention to detail when it came to trimming the lawn. Of course, she then reminded me of a job unfinished — the out-of-control shrubs.
I am not a good bush-trimming person. You know how it is: You start out trimming a little off this side and a little off that side, and then you cut a little more off the other side to even things up. If one is not careful, before he knows it he is left with hardly any plant at all.
That is what happened several years ago when Krista left me home alone to trim the stubborn holly bushes in front of our house. Those prickly things didn’t want to take shape, and after wrestling with them for hours I got frustrated and aggravated enough to whack them almost to the ground. It was brutal.
Needless to say, the wife was not pleased when she returned home to find they had basically disappeared. On the bright side, I have not had to trim them much since.
Assuring Krista that I would tackle the shrub-trimming very soon, we moved on to clean off and straighten up the pool deck. It’s amazing at the amount of leaves, limbs and other debris that accumulate over the winter.
With another chore done, we sat back and listened to the birds chirp and the cows across the road moo and call to each other. There is a quiet peacefulness to country life.
On Sunday afternoon, we visited Krista’s relatives in the Delta. Her aunt was in a cleaning mode also. She had set several fires in the back yard to burn leaves and other items. I helped her rake leaves for a while and then tended to the fire while she took a rest.
Later, on the ride home, Krista and I enjoyed a beautiful sunset with the sunroof open and the windows down.
Monday morning, my head was stopped up and I had a terrible cough. I don’t know whether it was the freshly cut grass, the smoke from Edna’s fires or the ride home in the evening air, but something triggered my allergies. Oh, well, it is spring, and we have to take the thorns with the roses, the poison oak and ivy with the green vegetation and the mosquitoes with the return of warmer weather.
It felt good to have the yard work done — a feeling that will last about a week, when the process starts again.
We have also been enjoying flowers that we planted recently in pots and beds around our property. Because the flowers are annuals, they must be planted anew each spring. That takes time and patience. A lot of patience.
We have established that I don’t have a green thumb, but I do admire the beauty of plants, trees and flowers.
So I will continue to toil in the yard as best I can and deal with problems as they arise.
In the end, it’s worth it.
