Repeat after me:
I will never let my yard get this overgrown again. I will never let my yard get overgrown again. I will never let my yard get this overgrown again.
And this time I mean it!
I don't think I've got too many before pictures but even the during pictures look pretty gruesome. The tall grass is being hacked down by the cubic yard. The weeds are being mangled by the bale. I haven't found Mr. Hoffa yet but I think it's only a matter of time.
The mother's helper that I've semi-sort-of hired (baked goods and spinning lessons) may not work out. She's supposed to be here fairly early to keep an eye on the Banshees while I'm out battling the Wilderness, but....(you knew there was going to be one of these, didn't you?) it's the desert out here. Which means that when it hits June-ish all outside physical activity had better take place early morning at first light or chasing the sun down in late evening. We had settled on eight a.m. (which, knowing me the way that y'all do, means the middle of the night and signifies that I really am very serious about getting this yard clean. Nothing short of the safety of my house and my spouse and my precious Banshees would get me out of bed that early. Then her mother called apologetically and said that eight might be a little too early for her daughter, could it possibly be 9 a.m. instead? All right by me, I can still get an hour or two of intensive labor in. Then she was sick. Then I was sick. Then today at 9:10 a.m. they call me up to say that she would jump on her bicycle and be right over. At 10:15 she shows up. Now mind you, I can only do this two days a week, so I've already lost a lot of time here. Not to mention that, the last time she was here, instead of following the short chore list that I had out for the Banshees (I showed it to her and everything), I came in to find the chores undone and the usual amount of Chaos for untended Banshees + the small amount of chaos you would expect for an active 12-year-old. Um, this wasn't what I had in mind when I said I needed a little help around the house....?
Okay, I was 12 once too. And there was a reason my mother didn't let me babysit until I was older. We've had a talk but if it doesn't work out, it doesn't work out. I'll just throw her back into the employment pool until she gets a couple more years of wisdom on her.
In the meantime I did the best I could in the blazing heat for about an hour and a half. I must have guzzled a gallon of tea and I still have to tackle the Rampaging Raspberries, and I'm not allowed to develop a drinking problem right now.
Life is so unfair.