Whiny Weed Kind of Morning

This is my third morning pulling weeds in the back bed. You might think I’m exaggerating but Lord, have mercy, it’s nearly killing me. The biggest, baddest river rock in the land make the ground uneven and my mom’s clogs do little to keep me balanced. They do bring a little sweet support of her strong, persistent, hardworking nature.

Crickets jump, spiders run . . . all except one monster that gives me a warning look. Ants climb up, over my muddy gloves, and creepily tickle my arms. Ugh.

I’m on my 14th bucket when I realize weeding represents life, as does it all. My attitude and perspective are key. I sit back in the rocks and take a survey. I’m about half way done. Rain has softened the earth, making the weeds let go easier. Thankfully I’m on the west side of the garage where the rising sun can’t reach me. It’s almost calming, sitting on knees and reaching out for green growth and pulling. Some weeds hold tight as they laugh at the 25 year old weed barrier cloth. They persevered. When I pull plants from the center, they come out easier. When I live from my center, life is easier.

I bargain with myself and offer rewards . . . an iced chai. It motivates me that this is the last time I’ll ever have to weed here because we’re covering rock with dirt and grass this Fall.

Bug bite welts pop up and I sit back. Damn this is hard. Can’t we hire this out? That makes me laugh. I’m capable. I’m just feeling overloaded after hours of moving rocks one by one in another area and painting Wall of Cubbies in garage. I’m okay. I’m getting through. I talk to myself, motivating forward movement. I set small goals. I imagine the new grassy area and am excited that it will be lower maintenance.

I’m on my last bucket. Breeze blows. So nice. Bird songs are low. So quiet. Shoulders, arms and hands make me aware of their ‘hurt so good’ satisfaction. Almost there. Keep going.

Last bucket dumped. Muddy gloves pulled off to dry in the sun. Me on the porch, big glass of cool water, notebook and pen at the ready and I write. Weeds are gone. Satisfied.

Please like and share. Thank you!