Perhaps I mentioned, or if you’ve lived under my roof, you know that I love the outdoors. This summer I am tackling yard work that is intended to streamline my lawn care, so next year I can sit in the outdoors and write and swim more. A.KA. trim and weed less.
The strategy plan includes disassembling a raised bed garden and building a new one, complete with stone pathways. Done ! (Converting the old garden to lawn is an ongoing work in the hot dry summer we have been enjoying.)
Cutting back an out of control privacy hedge row and burning the large pile of branches. Done.
Spreading and anchoring a 100’ by 40’ silage tarp on an area of our large front lawn in an effort to create a sterile seed bed, that next year may be a potato, berry, cornfield. Done. This could cut into the afore mentioned “more writing time.”
I have also assembled a fair number of cedar raised bed growing boxes and a most useful washing station, all purchased from Gardener’s Supply a highly recommended retailer based in my beloved home state of Vermont.
Replace the bark mulch with cobblestones. Undone. Explanation in next post.
Between these projects I mow and string trim about 3 acres of lawn every week, and I also walk 3 dogs almost every day. I was raised to work, and I am thankful for this ethic instilled in me by Vermont parents who lived and breathed “Don’t ask someone to do for you what you can do for yourself.” Because of my “razin” I am a worker, and quite stubborn about getting a job done. Recruiting additional help is a last resort. As my blog continues I will share the good and the bad of this stubbornness. My point today is to establish that I am no slump when it comes to manual labor. I am building this case because in my next post I intend to whine and complain , and I don’t want anyone thinking I am a wimpy whiner!
As a final piece of evidence , I share a favorite photo. During our homesteading stint, neighbors and customers regularly witnessed me working with my child strapped to my back. Danny was my supervising foreman for 2.5 years, bumped out by Elizabeth who hitched a ride in my pack until she was 3.