It’s sort of spring. Warm enough for a walk around the industrial park at lunchtime. Don’t really need a neck scarf and my light jacket was comfortable. That’s encouraging. Because it’s still cool and there’s been lots of moisture, the grass is coming up an emerald juicy green.
I did some yard work yesterday – more pruning, picking up dead fall branches, edging the flower beds. Although the wind was brisk and the sunlight weakly warm, it felt good to be outdoor. We’ve had a row of half a dozen grape vines growing along one side of the yard and I’ve been feeling guilty because I haven’t pruned them yet. My dear Dad, the farmer, would scold me mightily if he saw my lazy habits. I’m getting ready to assemble a raised garden bed from some of the still-good wood we ripped off the rebuilt deck. Hub and I agree that it would be good get rid of the old lumber that’s been sitting around for a couple of year. It’s cedar, so composting doesn’t really work unless you have 20 years or so to wait. I want to rent a wood chipper and have at ‘er, but that may be overkill.
Hub hitched up the new high-volume fertilizer spreader to the tractor today. He was in the back yard and came across our neighbour pacing the perimeter of our new Lee garden shed.
“Are you looking for something,” Hub said.
“Um. I saw my dog over here and I’m going to pick up after him.”
“My wife threw back a couple of fresh piles yesterday when she was doing the gardening. You should pay more attention when you let him out.”
“Well, if you just give me a call, I’ll come clean it up.”
“No,”Hub replied, “He’s your dog. You watch when he comes out and keep him in your own yard.” He’s my hero. I was hesitating having that conversation.
Geez. Where’s Dirty Harry when you need him? “Get off my lawn you stupid mutt.” They let the damned dog out and he runs over just inside our lot line and leaves his pile of fresh crap. Ugh. Our new shed went up on Thursday and by Friday afternoon, he’d left his doggy calling card right in front. It really annoys me. Their yard is as large as ours. They never go out there, except for setting up the folded up trampoline they drag out whenever some kids come by to play.
They only mow the lawn – they don’t fertilize it or control the damned weeds. Am I a lawn snob? You betcha. We spent $4000 last year with a high-end lawn care company to get ours back to good health. I spend hours bent over like a bloody farm labourer cutting the tips off noxious weeks. (thank you government, for legislating that I can’t use stuff stronger than vinegar to kill the damned unwanted vegetation. But it’s a bloody losing battle when the neighbours don’t care.
Hopefully now that they know we’re not happy with the doggy organic gifts, they’ll be more vigilant. Okay. My rant is done. There are more important things in life.