Daunted. That's me

Y'all know what undaunted is... right?

The dictionary defines it as: : courageously resolute especially in the face of danger or difficulty : not discouraged.

Well, I'm here to tell you that that isn't me at all.

I am totally and completely daunted, when it comes to this backyard of mine... and I'm seriously thinking of having the entire area covered in cement and painted green.

Because cement doesn't breed.

Cement doesn't spread seeds which keep popping up no matter what you do to them, birds can't eat it and then poop it out somewhere else so that the whole cycle starts all over again, and cement would more than likely save the Old Guys life.

Because when it comes to weeding, we're not on the same page at all.

I'm a puller-outer and want that old dirt to be as bare and weedless as an egg, ready for planting the new stuff.

I even like pulling out the cooch grass (couch? I dunno, it's the stuff with runners and roots that go halfway across the garden and Lord help you if you break one of those suckers off, because 47 more sprout in it's place.)

So I want it gone and will go to any lengths to get it out.

But the Old Guy? Well, he's a ripper-outer... and he leaves little sprigs of weed/nasty grass crap sticking out everywhere, so all it takes is a little morning dew to get the suckers up and sprouting again.

To me, it isn't weeded, when it's all just been ripped off an inch above ground level.

But he sure as heck can carry on like he's done something wonderful for me, while he wipes his sweaty brow and demands a cool drink for his intensive, back-breaking labors.

And dirt?

If anything he pulls out of the ground has the slightest dusting of dirt on it, he has to whack it on the ground, to save the precious soil from getting dumped in the compost bin.

The problem with that is, that while he's busy whacking the dirt off, all the 11 hundred zillion seeds come off with the dirt... and land right back where the mama weed came from in the first place.

And the cycle continues...

Hire a gardener? Did I hear you say hire a gardener?

Well honey, I've done that.

Three different times.

First, there was Alex.

Alex was a honey, and he was good at what he did.

Unfortunately, he looked like this :

(Just imagine this guy in tight little short-shorts... and all sweaty. Oh, and minus the cuffs.)

He was an ex "Thunder From Down Under" dancer. No word of a lie.
The problem was, that all my clients and friends would just "happen to drop by" on Wednesday afternoons, and it got to the point where I could have quit doing childcare and simply made a fortune charging an admission price.
I would have 15-20 women in my backyard when I was trying to run a business here... and well, it just didn't work out.
Besides, my heart couldn't take it anyway.

Then there was Elvis.
I kid you not. His name was Elvis Presley.
I'm pretty sure that his mother didn't name him Elvis, and his daddy wasn't a Presley, but he was a bit of a fan I guess ... and he had his name changed legally.

Elvis was good... and we were definitely in agreement when it came to weeding.
The only problem was, Elvis was "special needs", and had urinary incontinence problems to boot, so he was in and out of the house constantly to use the loo.
Then he would forget to close the back door when he went back out, and the children kept escaping.
Plus, childcare regulations state that any male over the age of 17 who comes into my household, has to have a current police clearance... and Elvis didn't understand that.

Then there was Clarry.
Bless his heart.
Clarry was so old that he couldn't bend down to do the weeding anymore, but he could still push the mower around.
The problem was, Clarry couldn't start the mower, so I would have to go out and do it for him, and then he would lean on it like a walker, and keep walking around in circles until the grass was all cut. Then I would have to go out and empty the catcher for him.
The problem with Clarry was, he charged by the hour... whereas Alex and Elvis charged a set amount.

One week, it would cost me $30, and the next, it could cost me $50... depending on how speedy he was.
But Clarry had a heart attack while mowing the neighbors grass and even though he wanted to come back once he was on his feet again, I didn't want him dropping dead in my yard.
Or anybodies yard for that matter.

So I'm gardener-less now.
Except for the Old Guy.

Lord have mercy on me...
Because I am daunted.