Yardwork, and the Slow Realization That It’s Going to Take a Really, Really Long Time
After work, Liz and I spent a bit of time working on clearing out the back yard. While I was getting dressed in the bathroom, I heard Liz yell at me through the floor. Looking down, I spotted her in the kitchen, peeking up at me.
There used to be a small clean-out catch basin thing here, that came from the shower. But that was removed once we got new plumbing for the house. Unfortunately, we just haven’t gotten around to patching this up yet, so the hole has been something we’ve just dealt with, in the bathroom.
Outside, Liz setting up her area.
Me, with one of the numerous plants that have taken over in back.
We were hoping to ignore the back yard until the winter came, letting the cold and snow take care of everything for us. But we’ve heard rumblings from neighbors as to the state of the back yard, so we’ve decided to bubble it a little higher on our task list.
I’m ashamed to say it, but I got flustered when dealing with the back yard. My impulse was to just blow through as much as possible, as quickly as possible. Though I know to dig down and get all the roots, I wanted to clear a large swathe at once.
When Liz reminded me that I needed to go back and ensure I dug up all the roots, I got deflated. The task of clearing the yard suddenly became more tedious than I had thought, and my energy and desire was to stay in motion.
We got a decent amount done while the sun was still out, but a large part of me felt slowed down. I guess I need to readjust my concept of what yard work is, and focus on clearing a small patch thoroughly (as opposed to a large patch, quickly).
For those who find gardening and yard work relaxing, I found it incredibly frustrating. But perhaps what we’re faced with now isn’t so much normal yard work as it is clearing vegetation.