My mom raked my entire front yard yesterday. It had been bothering her.
First you should know that my mother keeps an immaculate house and yard. I do not. I tried for years to be as clean as my mother, but I just couldn’t do it. So now instead I just live with the shame. It’s easier.
I’m a basically lazy person, and am happiest when I don’t have a lot of shit to do. If I have to choose between maintaining my front yard, or watching Invader Zim with the Little Boy while I knit and drink coffee, guess what I’m going to pick EVERY TIME? What I’m saying is, in the almost 3 years we have lived in this house, the front yard has NOT been my priority. Ever.
So my 60-something year old mother spent HOURS yesterday raking up more than a decade’s worth of leaf litter from the darkest corners of my ratty front yard. Little Boy ran circles around her playing, and the Herban Cowboy was turning and raking compost, putting in the border to the kitchen garden, and helping me in the kitchen.
I spent the time playing country housewife, cooking up a “mess of vittles” for the all the folks. I made a double batch of chicken soup with two whole chickens in it, steamed broccoli, baked potatoes and sweet potatoes, sausage, and some coconut-chocolate-chip-oatmeal cookies. The Husband made a loaf of wheat bread to go with it all.
It was a busier day than I like to have, and I was tired and stressed by the end of it all (I also had to break away for an hour to do a birthday party puppet show!), but I’m glad we did it. Now we’ve got a cleaned up front yard, chicken soup in the freezer, leftovers for lunch, and enough bread dough to make a pizza for dinner tonight. We even sent my mom home with soup, bread, sweet potato, and greens.
I hope she can move today. Maybe I should call her.