Yards

The grass always grows greener in the other yard. Not mine! I have a yard with the potential to be historic, Homeric, exemplary, yea verily pretty good. But I have a debility. I generally hate yard work.

I drive through my neighborhood watching the poor slaves to the shovels, rakes and manure, fast at work sweating their lives into their yards and I “tsk-ulate.” You know what I mean, I “tsk, tsk” in my mind feeling sorry for my fellows (and perhaps look down on the poor indentured slobs). I am free to do that, since I am the unknown traveler through our borough.

However, I do love my wife. That may seem strange to offer at this point in my not so subtle diatribe against yards and their incumbent tasks. She loves yards. I am afraid she not only loves yards, but also loves yard work. I am conflicted…love wife, hate yards; wife loves yards, husband is trapped.

I have decided to love my wife through the yard and all its implied travail. She is worth it, really! It does, however, not change the truth that yard work sucks! I love my wife, and I will love the yard. God made the garden, by the way, so He loves yards also. Man, I really am trapped. Love God, love yards…

So I have furthered my decision to love my wife and God by doing the yard. I will rake, mow, seed, trim, clip, plant, and water. God would have me do these things for loving Him more and proving myself to my earthly beloved. Yards, I sometimes think God did cast the first couple out of the garden…I am only praying that He will do a miracle and give me love for the yard.