The weed to grass ratio was, well, embarrassing. Weed killer would reduce my yard to Oklahoma during the 1930’s Dust Bowl!
And then there are the moles in the back. They’ve built a tunnel system that rivals London’s Tube.
A wealthy man would pay to have someone fix it. A zealous “green-thumber” would roll up his sleeves and dive in. Seeing I’m neither, I have to either declare all out war or start singing “Let it Be.”
Of course, there’s another solution. I could unleash my dachshund on the moles (since they’re bred to hunt badgers) and force my kids into slave labor for the next 6 months. I would “manage” from the shade, sipping mint juleps and serenading them with, “Let it Be.”
Now THAT sounds like a plan! 🙂