Mulch madness.

It was the mulch that did it.

Before we moved to the suburbs, I thought gardening was a hobby for well-mannered senior citizens who wore long gloves and big floppy hats and pruned a bit each morning as they hummed their favorite oldies. I thought keeping up a yard meant mowing and watering. The End. I thought picking out lovely plants and keeping them in good shape just meant going to the nursery, saying "I'll take those, those, and those," and then they'd magically show up in our yard, and because I'm a spunky sort who doesn't need things done for me, nossir, I'd plunk them into neat holes that wouldn't be any problem to dig. Maybe I'd make Scott dig them, if the holes were large.

I was wrong on all these counts, of course. Planting and gardening involves science and heavy lifting. It involves endless weeding and finding out that your yard is composed of clay and unexpectedly large rocks. It means pulling muscles you never knew you had. Gardening is not for sissies. Those old people who like to garden? I wouldn't mess with them if you paid me, now. Who knows what they could do with a shovel?

But the mulch, damn it, the mulch was too much. I knew about mulch and its importance, vaguely, so the first time I planted some things I came home with a couple of bags of mulch—which were surprisingly heavy! Huh!—and proceeded to pull every muscle in my body dumping them out all over the garden bed, my feet, and most of my legs. I raked the mulch around, and then saw how little of the ground I had covered. And I wept.

It turns out, and I know you know this and you're shaking your head at what an idiot I am, you need truckfuls of mulch. You need to visit Mulch Planet, and fight the natives until they surrender or die, and then denude their Mulch Mountains and Valleys, and transport all that mulch directly to your backyard, and maybe that would be enough. So much mulch, you need.

And the mulch doesn't stay. It goes. And then you need MORE MULCH.

A sane person would say, well, we could have hired a landscaping company to do the lawn upkeep and the mulching for us. That would have been the sane, sensible thing to do, but it would also be the thing to do if we had any cash with which to do that. Sadly, if we were to keep our yard looking halfway decent, we'd have to perform the upkeep ourselves.

I thought I'd get used to the fertilizing, the pruning, and of course the mulching. But I never did. I'm sorry to say this, yard, but now I dislike you. I see you and you're just a nagging reminder of all that I need to do, all that I haven't done, or the half-assed job that I did do just to make myself feel better. And now that I've mulched everything in the front yard that required mulching and I can't lift my arms without screaming, I am officially over having a yard. I want to move to a magical place where I'm only responsible for the inside of my home. Where if I feel any guilt, it's just because I haven't used the vacuum cleaner in a week.

Comments

[Deb]

The mystery continues.....suspense builds....where is Finslippy going?

[Nicole]

Oh, I am so with you there. When we bought our house two and a half years ago (at the peak of the market? why yes!), I didn't harbor any illusions about my love of yard work and home maintenance, but I really didn't know how much I don't like those things until I was actually responsible for doing them. Sucks that I had to put myself in debt for the next 300 years to find that out.

I've decided that home ownership, in many ways, is totally the opiate of the masses. We'd all like to get out and make the world a better place, but we're so damn busy making the money we need to pay the mortgage and keeping up the home that we can't do anything but that.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Anxiously awaiting the next post, in a totally non-stalkerish fashion.

[Leia]

That is why I love my apartment! I wish you luck in your quest for no yard living.

[bessie.viola]

Oh, I am so with you. We live on an acre and I.HATE.IT. The guilt, the mulch, the plants... all of it!

[HeyJoe]

Dearest Alice,

I have learned that love of gardening is not hereditary. Dad loves, Joe hates. In short, gardening sucks. This is why we have Francisco.

The End.

Stanchly,Joe

[JennyW]

Now if you were TOTALLY hardcore, you'd make your OWN mulch. Compost = FUN! (Har har.)

[natasha]

I fought the natives of Mulch Planet and it was I that surrendered and died. OK maybe not DIED, but wished I had!

My house is on the market too, and I wish you only the best as you live much to far away to be competition...

[steph]

A week?! I'm doing good to vacuum twice a year.

The other day my son saw the the custodian's cart at his school, pointed to the mop and asked "what's that?"

[Beth]

Where. Are. You. Going?

[Carrie]

You should see the "vegetables" I grew this year. (pics @ http://www.myfunnyfunnyfamily.com/2008/10/who-needs-economy-well-just-eat-off-our.html) I thought having my own garden would be such a frugal, easy solution! heeheehee. At least it will all be covered in snow soon and all we'll have to do is shovel and curse.

[Pretty Jane]

Have you been reading my diary again??

Every time I pull into the driveway and see our yard, so poorly maintained with the paltry sum we're willing to devote to the task, I feel sad inside.

(Sigh.)

[Kim]

A big draw of moving from the city to the country was room for a garden and a nice stretch of yard on which the kids and dogs could frolic.Ha!Due, in part, to garden/yard upkeep we were back in the city in under a year. Oh, sweet city life.

[Marisa]

Thank you thank you thank you! I'm so happy not to be alone in my hatred of all things yard-ish. Growing up in the country, I never imagined how much time even a small semi-urban yard could take. I loathe my yard.

[chiquita]

Amen, sister. I also hate my yard. It got so bad our neighbors (with much attitude) if they could prune the tree that hangs over to the road. Sure, have at it!

I would move if it weren't so damn much work. (and if the economy wasn't in the toilet, and if I didn't have an infant...)

[Lori L.]

I feel your pain. The bad thing about these landscaping endeavors is that you must finish what you started, or face shame from the neighbors.

[Hi Kooky]

And so you're moving to a place with no yard? Back to the city? Dangity dang! Tell us!

I'm sorry your arms are sore. We battle the mulch here too.

[Keetha]

I once neglected and killed an aloe vera plant, a houseplant, which was, you know, inside at the time.

This weekend I may rake some leaves, if someting appley and cinnamony with alcohol is involved afterwards. Otherwise, no yardwork for me.

[amigurumigirl]

HAHAHAH I'm sorry that I'm laughing so hard at your gardening adventures because I know it's SO not funny that you're in pain etc. , but you really do have a way of describing things. (~_^) Hang in there!

[G]

You are looking at this the wrong way. You don't need to invest in a landscaping company to have your mulch spread. You order in some truckloads of mulch and hire some gyus at $15/hr to spread it where you want. A good layering of mulch an last for 3-4 years and you just need to add a bit more then every other year. I'm too old to spread mulch myslef and the dr's bills would be more that the cost for some outsourced labor.

[Magpie]

I hear you, sister. We're on the move too, and I'm looking for houses that have a big ole patio surrounded by a teeny tiny bit of green space. Preferably so little green space that I'll be able to use a pair of clippers to keep the lawn in shape. And, I'll spend all the time I spend now taming my lawn, hedges, flower beds, trees on drinking margaritas on my simple patio.

[Susan]

I totally agree. I used to have a house on about half an acre, and the yard work made me aware of my lower back (not a good thing.) Now I live in a condo, and feel guilty about the things I neglect inside. Careful what you wish for!

[Heather]

The trick to handling bagged mulch with no pain = be sure it's dry. Don't buy bags of mulch that have recently been rained on, and don't let them get rained on before you dump them out! Wet mulch kills.

[Stu]

maybe if you called it a garden instead of a yard, it would sound more attractive? That's one of those americanisms I've never understood. To me a yard has connotations of bare concrete, some weeds, somewhere you park the car and maybe play basketball or something. Whereas a garden has lush things growing and is a pleasant place to be.

[Meesha]

Which is why I was overjoyed to purchase a flat instead of a house several years ago. Our top-floor unit has a lovely deck, which looks down on a lovely garden, which is the full property and complete responsibility of the downstairs neighbors. Of course, we're also lucky that the downstairs neighbors are gardening enthusiasts.

[BOSSY]

Bossy smells a condo.