...without this guy...
...and without this.
When my friend Steve peered over the fence after he was done mowing Ethel's yard, I could see the surprise on his face. All the hard work we'd done last summer in the garden (read about it here and here) was disappearing. I'd made good progress against the weeds earlier this spring, but then I went to Ireland. And when I got home, weeding was the last thing I wanted to do (evidenced here).
So we set a date and got down to business. Put on our gloves, got out the clippers and shovels, popped the tops on the Summer Shandy.
And commenced to drinking beer...I mean fighting the weeds.
One more night of work, and I think it will be clear. Then I think I'll have to bite the bullet and buy mulch. Last time I did, it took 44 bags. Not even kidding. Dad had to rescue me from the Menard's lot...the mulch-getter-Menard's-guy laughed at me when I said I was going to carry it home in my old Explorer. Laughed right out loud.
Oh, my adventurous life.
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