Has Yard Work Ever...

...made you cry? We had a sunny and warm day today, a rare combination it seems lately. I trimmed back my tulips and daffodils even though I know it is too early and they haven't stored enough energy for next year. I cut down our Japanese Maple that for some reason suffered a mysterious and premature death. We had wanted one of them in Pennsylvania but didn't have a spot so that was our first plant purchase when we got here. We had to buy a teeny tiny one because the bigger ones were really expensive but it had grown quite a bit over the years. I was careful not to squish the Hosta that my neighbor gave me several years ago while I was rearranging the dirt to hide the stump of the tree I couldn't get out. I tried to blend in the remains of the cement garden stones the kids made at the garden park last summer. I checked on the Clematis that I have babied and willed to survive for three years even though I know I didn't plant it in the right spot. I wondered what to do about the paint on the cement by the garage where the kids made a mess painting bird houses over spring break a few years back. I observed that one of the Hydrangeas by the steps is still way bigger than the other despite driving all over central Ohio looking for a matching set, and thought about my friend Susan who talks about how much she loves my hydrangeas every time she stops by and goes out of her way to drive by my house so she can see it in bloom in the spring time. I picked up the plastic hanger things that fell off the roof when Dave hung Christmas lights. I thought about how the very first thing we did the first spring we were here was tear out all the plants and start from scratch. I wondered if the next people would do the same thing. I did this all with tears streaming down my face and that chokey feeling in my throat hoping that the mail lady and my neighbor walking his dog wouldn't notice. I would have stayed here forever.