I've always hated gardening. In fact, it was the thing I was most worried about when we bought this house — that I would have to plant, have to dig, have to mow, have to rake, have to give a shit.
But our yard is big. Much as we've tried to put it off — and ohh, try we have — it's become quite clear that if we don't want to be those neighbors with that yard, we're going to have to put in some pretty serious work on an indefinite and ongoing basis.
Luckily, my mom is pretty good at gardening. And more importantly, she loves it. She's been trying to talk me into it for years, to no avail. But two weekends ago, my yard overgrown and my flowerbeds still full of last fall's dead leaves, she came up to help me start the process of sprucing things up.
