Weed!

When I bought my house, some 20-odd years ago, the grounds were beautifully manicured.

Already, I know how this sounds: Like I’m a giant rich tool.

I get it. I understand. Only giant rich tools would say things like, “the grounds were beautifully manicured.”

But they were. My little third of an acre -- see, not a giant rich tool -- was awesome. Stone walls, stone walkways, numerous beds, rocky outposts … just lovely.

What I didn’t anticipate, however, was the work it was going to take to maintain these beautiful grounds. Not being a giant rich tool, I couldn’t afford a landscaper, and so it pretty much fell to me to maintain.

Well, I failed. Pretty much immediately. Everything got overgrown, weeds were popping out of thin air, wives -- in this particular case, mine -- was giving me stink eye after stink eye.