Column: Yard work with a little help from my friends
Full with Easter dinner, I set out Sunday afternoon to do some overdue yard work.
When the snow melted, it left behind stray garbage, long-lost sprinkler heads, smashed bushes and moldy leaves that I was too lazy to rake in the fall. The bushes, which needed to be trimmed back, lined the driveway, the fence and the house, and the yard held enough leaves to fill an Olympic-size pool.
My mom, who has practical advice for everything, told me to break up the enormous task into smaller pieces so as not to be overwhelmed. I had been putting off the yard work because I knew it would take longer than one day to complete, so the suggestion motivated me.
I began raking in one corner of the front yard. I was amazed at the efficiency of the new rake I had purchased the week before – its wide swath covered three times as much ground as my old one, and its plastic fingers were perfect for picking up leaves and pulling up dead grass. I realized that my old rake was about as useful as a water bucket with a hole – except the rake, with its missing fingers, leaked leaves instead.
When I grew bored and my back got tired of the repetition, I moved to trim the ugliest of the bushes in the front yard. I couldn’t locate the branch trimmer I thought was in the shed, so I borrowed a pair of smaller clippers from my next-door neighbor. I felt comfortable asking for this favor because in the worst of this winter’s snow he helped keep my driveway clear with his snow-blower. If it wasn’t for him, some mornings I wouldn’t have been able to leave without shoveling for a half-hour.
He had bought them new since the snow melted and used them to trim his rose bushes. But I soon found out that I had far too many thick-branched bushes to cut with hand clippers.
I returned them and began raking some more, a little disappointed that the ugly, snow-smashed bushes would stay intact until I could get something to cut them down.
My other next-door neighbor stood outside so I asked him if his parents had a branch trimmer. He returned with one, not knowing what a favor it was for me.
Going from using hand clippers to using this long-handled tool was much like going from my rusty old rake to my new one – the contrast was huge. I couldn’t believe how quickly the pile of dead branches grew.
The sun set, and when it was too dark to continue, I put away my rake and left the branch trimmer on my neighbor’s doorstep.
I listened to rain hit the pavement outside as I washed the soil from my hands. I said a prayer, thanking God for delaying the rain, for granting me good health so that I could work in my yard, and for giving me neighbors kind enough to loan me their tools.
(Canda Harbaugh is a reporter for The Western News. She can be reached at: candareports@gmail.com )