So today for our “fun” outing I figured it would be beneficial for various parties if I put on my big girl gardening gloves and ventured out to my back yard where many-a-big ugly weeds live. I would be able to get something done while Maddy played outside for a little while. Great idea! I have to admit, hands down, weeds are some of the most interesting life form ever. I adequately prepped myself for the task at hand, and I think I might have ended up looking a little like something out of a cheesy gardening magazine. I had my pink gardening gloves, which my husband got for me (even though I don’t garden, I guess it was in his dreams that I do), had my overalls on with a pretty tank top (so was Maddy), and I had my favorite lip gloss on (O-gloss from Smashbox, this-lip-gloss-kicks-all-other-lip-glosses- A-double-snakes!). Well there I was, started pluggin’ along just fine since I started with the weeds that looked less intimidating. And then it happened……I got to the mother of all weeds. She was large and in charge! I named her Bertha just because that’s what came to mind when thinking of an “in-charge” type of gal (sorry if your name is Bertha or you know of someone whose name is Bertha. I hope you, or the person you know is “in-charge” of many things, and I hope that it doesn’t include getting me jumped for this comment, thank you).
Let me illustrate this weed picture a little better for you because I really want you to understand what a mess our back yard is. We have concrete for the first few feet outside our house. Then there are pretty little rocks that surround a neat little bean shaped island of more concrete. AND in the midst of all this there are millions of weeds coming out of everywhere! Rocks, the black tarp that’s supposed to cover the ground, flower pots, virtually everywhere. Okay well maybe NOT millions of weeds, and maybe not everywhere, but plenty to make a girl sweat, a lot! As I began pulling on Bertha, I realized it wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought; she was going to make it really difficult for me. Maybe the pink gloves made my ambition superfluous, made me believe I was a savvy and experienced gardener, I don’t know. But I had to use my legs for Pete’s sake! One time I almost fell back onto my bum so bad that I just got super frustrated and took of my gardening gloves. I did what a five year old would do and threw them on the ground. This of course symbolized my demise, Bertha won! Don’t judge me until you’ve seen her though. This thing was, well, is gargantuan. I gave it another go and nope. She won AGAIN! At this point I just, if anything, needed to figure out a life lesson of sorts. So I started thinking of my life and I found the perfect lesson. When I let myself go and don’t clean up the “weeds” of my life as they come up, my life starts to get messy, messy. Weeds are my bad habits, the tendency to be mean, my short-fuse, no-patience kind of attitude that from time to time surfaces onto my little soul. Yes, the beginning stages of the weed look somewhat appealing; with its little yellow flowers intermingled as if saying, “Oh look at me, little old me, I’m just a pretty little weed”. But when you allow the weed to grow and grow, it becomes literally rooted so deep that you need a bulldozer to get it out. Be careful of your “weeds”. Put them in check and yank those suckers out before you have Bertha’s all over your bee’s wax. Stay blessed and stay saucy!!!
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