Benign Neglect

The folks who owned our house before us weren't big gardeners.  The people who owned it before them?  HUGE gardeners!

So that means that we are trying to get control of 2 years worth of benign neglect, which, when you think about it, is still neglect.

I spent 8 hours today in the front garden and on the front flagstone walk.  The garden is not big, but I managed to fill one 3 foot by 3 foot by 3 foot compost bin with leaves, dreadful cedar chips, hydrangea stalks (the darn plant that sucked me into the garden in the first place), weeds, and grass that was grown over the walk (10-foot long walk).  

Amy mowed – and since it's been raining so much lately, she had to go over almost the whole lawn twice in order to properly mulch the clippings.  She weeded one weed out of the rest of the gardens – just one – and filled a 33 gallon trash bag (bigger than a wheelbarrow-full!) with just that weed.  She raked alongside the driveway, collapsed all our moving boxes to take to recycling, took stuff to our neighbor's house for bulk trash pickup tomorrow, and started to tackle one small area of bamboo.

We also bought 450 pounds of stones to finish lining the driveway, to finish the front garden border, and to fix the garden around our lovely beech tree.  450 pounds of rocks.  For those of you who are keeping track, that's almost $90 worth of stuff you can dig out of the ground. 

Damn benign neglect. 

My analogy? The whole thing is like eyebrows.  The first time you ever tweeze them, hoo boy, it's a job, it hurts, and you get really tired doing it.  But afterwards, it's just maintenance… unless you ignore it.  And then you have to start at the beginning again, and that's no fun.

After all that, we went to the community farm to get our veggies for the week and to drop off half the loot with our lovely (and dreadfully sick) friends.  

Time for bed.  I'm tuckered!