Curb Appeal

People who know me well, know that my thumb is completely black. I have a total of 6 house plants, 5 of which are in the “succulent category” so do not require any specific care (or maybe they do… I don’t know). I sometimes remember to water them, but I catch my mom watering them when she notices that the cacti are thirsty.

I’ve recently branched out to “tropical air plants”. They have no roots, and only require a misting from a spray bottle once per day. After forgetting to mist them for their first 4 days at our house, I’ve taught Evan how to do it. It’s sad that I’m counting on a 4 year old to care for my plants, but he’ll do a much better job, especially since a spray bottle is involved.

Sometimes I wonder how I’ve kept my kids alive.

Colin comes from a long line of farmers. He doesn’t so much care about having a pretty yard with flowers, but he is the gardener in our house. He plants the veggies, the kids water them, and I weed. Because that’s all I’m good for: destroying plants.

Due to my lack of landscaping skills, I had “nicely landscaped yard with a lawn” on my list of must-haves for our potential new home last year. I figured that if it was nice to begin with, we could maintain it. But to start from scratch? Impossible.

This is what we got.

 It actually doesn’t look too bad from this angle…if you like junipers. What you CAN’T see is the 4 square metres of ivy and morning glory (a swear word in our house) up to 3 feet thick behind the mammoth juniper bush in the front. You also can’t see the other mammoth juniper bush. From NO angle can you see the ground, but I’m willing to bet there is not a single blade of grass on the entire thing.

 (View from the living room)

This wasn’t on our list of things to fix at the beginning, but when the kids wanted to ride their bikes on the street, I had nowhere to watch them from. And there’s no front lawn to play on. So I thought, “Hmm. I’ll take it on as my project to make a front lawn”.

[hits head] Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

And so it began.

For the next YEAR, whenever the kids played in the front, I’d rip up ivy or search and destroy morning glory roots. Hardly a garbage day went by without a full green waste bin. I could even be found gardening in the pouring rain if I hadn’t yet had the chance to fill the bin. The neighbours think I’m nuts. They also thought I was a bear one time when I was gardening in the pitch black at some stupid hour. Freaked them right out.

At the deepest point of the ivy, I discovered two huge stumps several feet tall from evergreen trees of some sort. Pretty bad when something that big is concealed by the devil vines.

Next…the junipers. I do know that God created the world and everything in it. However, the juniper shrub is straight from hell. If not the whole shrub, then at least the bottom anchor root that shoots straight down to the middle of the earth.

Considering that touching a juniper shrub is as pleasant as hugging a hedgehog, I don’t know WHY, but our kids and the neighbour kids liked to use them as chairs. They’d climb up on top of them and chill out, or jump on them like a trampoline. One day, the neighbour reached inside of it and pulled out a toaster. A camera. Also, spray paint cans and beer bottles.

Everyone stop reading. I’d like all of you to find a juniper (I don’t care where) and completely remove it (stump and all) with only:

-         your hands

-         gloves, if you can reach where your husband has put them

-         a trowel

-         a pair of loppers (which will be bent out of shape at the end)

-         a waiver that says you won’t sue me if you get hurt

Done? Ok. I’m sorry about all the blood, sweat, tears and scars (both physical and emotional) that caused you, but you can’t POSSIBLY relate until you’ve done it.

It was a nightmare…13 times over.

We have underground lines running through the front yard, so we were not allowed to rip the shrubs and their 35 year old spider web root system out with a truck. We had to smite these enemies with our bare hands.

On the first bush, I took the branches off with loppers. I enlisted Colin’s chainsaw when I realized that I’d be 237 years old by the time I lopped off the branches. Advice: I don’t care how hot it is. Wear boots, pants, long sleeves and gloves. These barbed-wire bushes are not fun to handle.

Next was the demoralizing task of digging out all the stumps… 13…by hand. The first one came out in a hour long fit of rage. I was walking past it and impaled my leg on one of the jagged branch ends. Bleeding, I went berserk on that beast until I was holding the stump and roots in the air, laughing like a mad woman and grunting like a man.

For those who didn’t take up my challenge, here are the steps for the stump removal part:

-         Dig and dig and dig and dig and dig and dig until a root is exposed

-         Sever root

-         Wiggle the stump to see if it’s moving

-         It’s not

-         Expose another root

-         Sever

-         Wiggle

-         Contemplate taking up swearing. Cry instead.

-         Repeat all steps for an absolute MINIMUM of an hour (possibly two, three, four…)

I did most of the stump removal this spring when one or both of the kids were at school. They love digging and using loppers, so when they were home, I got some “help” too. Colin joined the party for the truly awful ones I saved for last.The ones that had intertwined roots, and you couldn't tell which root belonged to which shrub.

On the final week leading up to grass planting time, I brought out my super hero ability of working my butt off without realizing how tired my body is. I’d spend up to 10 hours a day in that stupid yard by myself, with Colin, or our hired help (my Mom, whom I inherited my super hero powers from).

Nathan and Evan, being the sweet boys they are, would bring us snacks and water without being asked. They also got their bikes out and dirt biked on the lawn we were trying to build.

We got about 5 (or 6? Stopped counting) yards of dirt to level the yard. And finally…grass planting time (this is where Colin totally takes over as it is no longer a destruction process, but a growing one).

Fast forward a month, and now look at our beautiful lawn!

It has taken countless hours over more than a year to get to this point, and who knows how many years off our lives! 

Just as we’re about to step on the podium and accept our medal for our wonderful performance, we see this:

And this:

Flipping mole hills?? In my brand new lawn??

YOU. HAVE. GOT. TO. BE. JOKING.

Someone get me a mallet because we’re about to play "Whack-A-Mole". I’ll keep you posted and let you know who wins. And if you ever stop by my house…feel free to play along.