So I planted these little twigs in my backyard about two months ago and voila, now they have leaves. Hopefully soon they will have roses. I have one in each back corner of my backyard.
In my younger days I never thought I'd enjoy yardwork. Well, I did have a small place in front of my parent's house where I planted cherry tomatoes one year, but I hated mowing grass and any other kind of yard work. It may have been because my parents made me do it, or the fact that our yard was huge and consisted of a lot in the back that was full of weeds, baby mesquite trees, snakes, stickers and rocks. My dad bought the lot behind our house so no one else could build near us or God forbid, put a trailer behind our house.
The yard I have today is small. I have a reel mower and it takes me about 15 minutes to mow. I should probably buy some hand shears though because the grass is getting a little taller around the edges where my mower can't reach. A few months ago, you could have found me down on my hands and knees in my yard pulling up weeds. What has gotten into me? Is it ownership? Pride? Not really, it's my backyard, no one will see. Maybe, I'm just turning into what I've always thought I was: an old man.
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