Am I a Lazy Bob?
I live in Florida and the grass is literally, and figuratively, growing under my feet.
"Literally" because we are not suffering a drought. We are experiencing a typical Florida rainy season with torrential and often violent thunderstorm downpours every afternoon and into the evening. "Figuratively" because I am unable to keep on top of the mowing.
The grass, along with every other water loving green thing growing on our 3 acres of property, is in heaven. Not "literally" in heaven but "figuratively" so.
In a world of phantasmically fast growing grass I realize I must return to being like a busy Mary and most definitely not succumb to being like a lazy Bob. Just maybe, though, I am a busy Mary at heart but circumstances have turned me into a lazy Bob. Maybe Bob isn't really lazy at all. Maybe lazy Bob has simply lost his ability to be a busy Mary and has become a scaredy Cat.
Bob is frustrated. Bob has handed control of the narrative over to Nature. Nature has proved herself to be a formidable foe. And yes, indeedy, Nature is a "she" and her descriptive noun is "Mother." If you don't like it then take it up with her. I am merely the messenger.
In my case, this has nothing to do with butter or that crappy Chiffon plastic butter. It has to do with grass and weeds and thorny trees and vines and seeds and stinging bees. And between all that heat and sun Mother Nature isn't fun!
I just cannot keep up.
"Why is that?" you may wonder.
For starters, this formerly busy Mary never had so much on her hands. Living rural was never in the cards she had been previously dealt. Busy Mary is now trying to play Canasta with a Pinochle deck. Busy Mary used to mow her 1/3 acre with a push mower. Not a gas powered push mower. An actual physically powered manual push mower because she didn't want to deal with the gas. Remember those mowers?
And they're not cheap. Busy Mary's ex-husband used to mow her former 1/3 acre of a lawn with a ride on mower but after the divorce Mary did not want to use the ride on mower. So she pushed and was happy. This exertion was also good exercise.
Busy Mary used to take upon herself the most formidable of jobs. Nothing stopped her when she had a vision of the outcome! I lugged buckets full of those rocks! I pushed wheelbarrows full of that mulch
But now…in the depths of rural Florida on these 3 acres Mary needs to use the John Deere lawn tractor and has to deal with the acquiring of gas and filling the tank to which tasks she is averse no matter how she tries to accommodate the mower's requirements and overcome her aversions. Mary's new husband used to be very capable of doing all of these things but he is, sadly, no longer able. (Sigh) Then, add to that frustration the price of said gas to mow all of this property once a week during the height of a Florida's summer which always seems to be at its height – at least from April until October.
I've been conservative about the mowing because of the gas issues, the heat and the undesirable attributes of all of the previously stated including, but not limited to, it being a thankless, never ending and seemingly insurmountable goal . Riding around on the mower is fine with me as I have donned my dear dad's cowboy hat and despite sweating bullets but it's the things required of me before I can get to that point which affront me. I always feel like "but, I just did this!" I feel that way because I "literally" just did.
(Bigger sigh)
By the way, just filling the mower with gas has taken on a new meaning because…let me start from the beginning.
We had 3 gas cans. 2 were small and 1 was huge. The huge one was heavy and very difficult for me to manipulate in order to get the gas into the mower. I would have to set it upon a heightened surface so I could lift it up and attempt "the pouring." The screw on thingy was getting hard to screw on tightly and gas would leak out during "the pouring." I thought we could use a new large gas can. My husband bought one and they are not cheap. OMG. I will never figure this new-fangled gas can out. It's got all kinds of buttons and flaps you need to press while performing "the pouring" and you need to release the vapor and I am scared to death of this one. I honestly don't know what to do about it. Just saying. I cannot physically manipulate or control this gas containing monster.
I'm sure if any real men and hardy women are reading this you are laughing your butts off at me by now but I honestly do not care. I need help.
Then there are the weeds. I am sorry. Maybe Mary would be fine with this but I
cannot deal with the weed whacker
The weed whacker is not my friend and nor do I even wish to friend the weed whacker. That contraption requires some other different kind of gas/oil/diesel fuel mixture that I don’t even want to talk about or know about.
My brother who has been trying to help me out told me:
"Janet (because that's my name), you have to keep spraying the weed killer to keep the weeds down." YES! The weed killer! I soon realized that there is not enough weed killer in Florida or even enough hours in a day that will stop these infernal weeds from overtaking my property in the blink of an eye.
I just can't do it
Because then I've got either pretty looking butterfly enticing weeds OR ugly, dried up, dead weeds. You know what's even worse? When those pretty butterfly enticing weeds dry up at the end of their season they turn into a nightmare thistle breeding farm. The dogs come in loaded with thistles, I come in loaded with thistles and then there are thistles all over the house and I can't keep up with the thistles. I mean, Lazy Bob. He just can't keep up.
BUTTERFLY ENTICING WEEDS
UGLY DRIED UP DEAD WEEDS
And then…so what is worse? What a conundrum!
Because then…there are swathes of dead weeds all around the house and all over the place and all the way (WAY WAY) down by the front gate that need to be gathered up and…do what with them?
Well…they can be thrown into the burn pile. Folks around these parts always have a burn pile for stuff like this. I don't want to talk about it. The burn pile is a whole other story which I don't even want to go into right now because the burn pile has been there for years and hasn't burned in years because the last time my husband burned the pile he got really sick from the smoke and fumes and he can't do it anymore and I'm afraid if I do it then the entire field will become engulfed in fire and spread to the falling down, rotted trees along our back fence where so many of our wild birds live and then spread to our sheds where all kinds of valuable stuff is stored including hundreds (maybe even thousands) of books and it will just be one big disaster and don't you just love these run on sentences.
Or…somehow…all of those dead weeds and brush can be stuffed into a bunch of plastic bags and brought to the dump. The DUMP is also another whole story which I don't want to go into right now because…I just don't even want to think about it. Trust me. The dump is a horrible place to be.
There are many things in our lives that we may not want to do but that we must face head on and DO IT ANYWAY.
I am sorry. I do not want to do any of this "anyway." Lately, I find myself being smacked in the face by all of those "do it anyway" types of activities. I might not even "literally" be capable of doing this kind of stuff anymore due to my advancing age and my eroding mental state. Perhaps if I was offered an enormous sum of money to perform these "do it anyway" chores I might reconsider. But I haven't been and so I am not and I was just kidding anyway.
I need help.
I am a formerly busy Mary for sure. I am also a frustrated and extremely overwhelmed scaredy cat Bob now.
I have no idea how this will all turn out. But it isn't looking good.
Please comment with any advice if you have any to spare. I would appreciate it.
Thank you for reading Chicken Little.