Saturday, June 18, 2011

Where There's A Weed, There's A Way!

Tim and I have an agreement. I do the all the inside housework and he does all the outside housework. The only problem with this agreement is, I have to do the 3,224 things that are required to maintain a clean house and he thinks he only has to mow the grass or blow the snow once or twice a month, weather permitting. This causes a great deal of stress. For me. When I ask him no less than 2,456 times to take care of something outside and he responds with, "Yeah, yeah, yeah." it makes my blood boil. The weeds around the house were growing half way up to the windows, and we have high windows! After asking 2,456 times, he decided to dump a little weed killer along a part of the fence. I won't even tell you what I thought about that. So, today I decided enough was enough. I was going to learn how to use the weed eater and take matters into my own hands. So, I went outside and checked out the weeds first. They were beyond weed eating. Those bad boys needed to be ripped out by the roots by hand! So, that's what I did. I got down on my hands and knees and pulled weeds. For hours. By hand. I used muscles I didn't even know I had. I think I might even be ready to go sleeveless now. Maybe. Anyway, while I was doing this, I couldn't help but notice that the bottom, cement portion of our house is only painted on three sides! (It's amazing what a difference the view is when you are on your hands and knees.) But, what the heck? That was painted at least two years ago! How could I not notice that? (I suppose all those weeds might have been covering it.) So, then I started to look around. Really look around. I started to notice all kinds of things that needed attention. So, I then informed Tim, (Yes, I informed him. I am not asking anymore. It's called tough love, baby!) that every night after work this week, "we" would be tackling at least one or two of those projects. You can about imagine the happy response this brought. Now, don't go feeling all sorry for Tim. These are things he should have been taking care of all along, and I am even going to help him! But, tonight when he lays his head down on his pillow, there isn't a doubt in my mind that he will be thinking to himself, "Why didn't I just pull the $#@! weeds???" Live and learn baby, live and learn.

Weed is not for me.

I worked so hard,
I blew out a glove!