He has been the bane of my existence for the last six years. We share the farm. We share my Beloved. Sometimes I share dinner or a baked good with him. I'll admit that sometimes we even share a laugh.
Most of the time, we tolerate each other.
For the past six years we've been in a battle over the yard (well, over everything really). He's happy to accept free labor, but only if he can supervise (read: tell me exactly what, how, and where to do everything). He's not a gracious man and I'm a stubborn, opinionated, woman with a mind of her own and a sharp tongue.
I thought I was strong.
I thought that I could ignore the over growth, the under growth, and the jungle of blackberries that is over taking the yard.
I thought I could handle the embarrassment of looking like I live on Tobacco Row. In all honesty, I have no idea what Tobacco Row is or looks like. It's an old saying of my mothers that she would thrust out from behind clenched teeth whenever my father left tools, appliances, or car parts in the front yard or driveway for more than six hours.
I'm fairly certain she didn't mean it as a compliment.
I'm tired of living like Elle Mae and am taking strides to tidy up the acre that this house sits on (there are 8.5 acres of land total).
Okay, maybe not the entire acre. Maybe just the front yard. And the driveway. The apple orchard. The Rhodie's need a trim. The blackberries must be conquered. The grass...oh heaven help me...must be cut.
I'd post pictures but, well, it's bad people.
And I have a reputation to uphold...somewhere...
On the upside, the front flower bed is looking nice. Really nice and as soon as I get some bark dust spread I'll take a picture. But not till then.
FIL is pleased with my work or he's happy that he's getting free labor. When I told him of a plan I had for a different part of the yard, he cut me off to inform me of his plan. I looked him in the eye and said, "Well, we both know that isn't going to happen."
I told you I have a sharp tongue.
Okay, so I've caved by even starting any yard work. He noted my caving and took an opportunity to squash my ideas and try to force me to do his bidding.
It's not going to happen. He won't carry out his plan because it would require him to do things that he simply won't do (like yard work and spend money). I, on the other hand, will carry out my plan and the yard will look, well, at least better than it does now.
Now, if I can just get it done before Wen gets here in two weeks!
Guess I should have caved earlier!