Yard Heroes

I have a complicated relationship with yard work. As a kid growing up in Florida, I hated doing it. It just seemed pointless. You mow, rake, weed and then the next weekend, you have to do it again. All of my friends spent their Saturdays at the beach, but the Blackburn kids did yard-duty and housework.

Every house that Richard and I have lived in has had a backyard that could substitute as a ball field. It was great for the kids to play in, but a killer to mow. It wasn't until the kids came along that I discovered that yard work had some redeeming qualities. Every Saturday, Richard would mow the yard while the kids and I raked and weeded. Of course, this meant that I chased after the kids and occasionally a weed might get pulled. One day, I suggested that I mow and I was hooked. I discovered that when you mowed, you got at least one hour to yourself! You couldn't be on kid-duty if you were operating the lawn mower.  After that, Richard and I would argue over who "got" to mow.

As the kids grew into able-mowing teenagers, they assumed this job. While I sort of missed it, I knew that they had to assume this chore. Trust me, they would have gladly let me mow for them, but I couldn't do this to them. None of them just loved it and to this day, yard work is not high on their list of fun things to do.

Since the kids took over the yard mowing, Richard and I had time to actually do something called gardening. As the years have passed by, we (mostly I) have discovered how enjoyable it is to plant something and watch it grow.





Lots of different kinds of annuals right outside our kitchen window.

I even discovered that I had a pale green thumb.  I have a lot to learn, but I do find it very therapeutic to be outside playing in the dirt. It is also one of the times that I don't feel quite so angry at God. I find contentment tending my flowers. I also love getting plants from my first graders and thinking of them when I am taking care of these gifts.



Hydrangeas - my favorite outdoor flower.

One of the things I love about hydrangeas is that you can change the shade and color by changing the acidity of the soil. I'm sure there is a life lesson here, but I'll save that for another time.

So, why did I call this post yard heroes? I'll quit posting flower pictures and explain.....

Yesterday, I had an unexpected visit from a sweet couple from my childhood.  He is 81 and has Alzheimer's. She is 80 and is now the caretaker in every facet of their life. As we were saying our goodbyes, she told me that she had just learned how to do something new. She said that the other day, for the first time ever in her life, she mowed the lawn! She had never had to worry about this before, but now, as their lives had irrevocably changed, she had to assume this responsibly.

My friend, Carolyn.....yard hero.

I could kick myself for not taking a picture of her, though she probably wouldn't have wanted me to post her picture.

The next yard hero is my son, Ben. He likes to do yard work about as much as his Uncle Ben. Give him a ballgame or a book, but please don't make him do yard work.

The few days after Jacob died were a blur of activities - funeral arrangements, picking out a casket, figuring out what clothes to take to the funeral home for Jacob to be buried in....... all those things that no mother should ever have to do. It was summertime, so the yard was in desperate need of mowing. It was the last thing we even thought of doing. We were at home, trying to get ready for family coming in. I heard a noise outside and looked out the window. There was my son, Ben, mowing the yard with his son, Tucker, "helping" him. It was a priceless moment and one I think of now when I mow. Here's a picture:



Ben and Tucker mowing the lawn - June 16th, 2009

My son, Ben, ....yard hero.

Two more to go.

Third yard hero - my mom and sisters. I have a lot to say about these amazing women who have influenced me more than anyone else in my life. I'll save that for later. All three of them love to garden and have beautiful yards. I am a novice compared to them.  My mom taught me how to grow and love African violets. I currently have ten different violets. I hate to sound arrogant, but I seem to have the touch. I have to believe there's a genetic component here.  I have to restrain myself from propagating more - don't you love that word? If you don't know what it means, look it up.

Instead of posting endless pictures of my African violets, I thought I would post, instead, my favorite picture of these yard heroes, or should it be, heroines?

Mother's Day, 2013

Kathy Blackburn, Mary Nan Carroll, Carol Blackburn

Last yard hero, for now........Richard Edfeldt.

 Richard sort of tolerates doing yard work, but does not just love it. I secretly fantasize about him being like the man on the Scott's Fertilizer commercial who knows everything there is about lawn and garden care. Every time I drag him to Pike's Nursery, I think he will catch that garden fever and just become obsessed with what perennials and annuals to plant. I keep waiting for him to get that same high I get every spring when it is time to start planning what flowers to plant. I have bought him lots of books and magazines on gardening, and funny, he was never very excited about getting them.

 I now get it. He takes care of our yard because it is part of our home, but he would much rather spend time  with his children, play with his grandchildren, play golf with friends, play on at least four fantasy baseball teams (this I don't get), and be with me, even if it does mean doing yard work.

 I used to wish he would be one of those husbands who determined his self-worth by the appearance of his yard, but wouldn't you know, he was, and is a lot deeper than that. So here is my last picture of the ultimate yard hero, Richard Edfeldt.

Richard is supposed to be spraying weeds around the hydrangea. The Round-Up has gone to his head.

He still makes me laugh everyday.