Since we have moved to the life of Suburbia one thing is always constant in my mind, weeds. I literally have become obsessed with weeds ( though if you looked at my own yard you’d think seriously?) their height, what kind, and if I can spot them from the road. I obviously have issues.
I not only scour my own yard in search of these vegetative rodents, but my neighbors yards as well. It has become almost a sickness. I take comfort in the neighbors yards who are similar to ours; the weeds are present but not so tall that they stand ominous. I think to myself that I could be friends with the people who are doing their darndest to combat the weeds just like I am. I take pride and feel victorious with them when they too have mowed them into obliteration and sorrow with them when the weeds return doubled with their minions.
Then there are the neighbors who are obviously the goody goodies and rue the day that the slightest start of a dandelion dare appear in their lush green yard and well manicured landscaping. These people are probably way to busy to actually tend to their yard themselves and have someone else do it for them (me judgmental? nah). They probably never go outside but to pull their trash to the curb and maybe get the mail. I could never be friends with these people as I obviously live among the peasants.
I can’t leave out the poor peoples yard’s who are beyond help. I honestly want to go to their house and pick their weeds for them. I want to knock on their door and see if they are ok, if they need anything like weed killer or a good lawn mower. I weep for them and their poor yard. Blessed are those who don’t use weed killer, for they are just naive in their ways.
I probably need to get a hobby like blogging or something..oh wait.