Let me paint you a picture of my weekend. It involves two dead trees, one very judgy fence, and enough mosquito larvae to haunt my dreams. You’re welcome.
The Backstory Nobody Asked For (But You’re Getting Anyway)
For the past few years, our backyard existed in what I’d generously call a “chaotic meditation on entropy.” Multiple jobs, dogs who treated the yard as their personal canvas, and caring for a parent with dementia had a way of reshuffling our priorities. The backyard ranked somewhere between “lint trap cleaning” and “alphabetizing our spice rack” on the urgency scale.
Then came two years of settling an estate, which is basically grief with spreadsheets. By the time we surfaced, the yard looked like it had made some very bad decisions and was not ready to talk about them.
The Inciting Incident
Two pin oaks — eighty feet tall, because apparently we don’t do anything small — had to come down. Then the privacy fence decided it, too, was done with us. We replaced both, which was the financial equivalent of setting a pile of money on fire while smiling at each other.
The result? A pristine new fence beautifully framing what can only be described as a yard that had given up on itself. Turns out a shiny fence is basically a spotlight pointed directly at your failures.
Operation: Make the Yard Stop Embarrassing Us
I took Juneteenth Friday off and went full HGTV — if HGTV had a budget of “whatever’s free on Facebook Marketplace.” Here’s the damage:
- Mosquito traps strategically placed around the property, because I refuse to donate blood to something that doesn’t even say thank you
- Free cinder blocks from Facebook Marketplace, repurposed into shelving along the fence — using scrap wood because I am basically a budget MacGyver
- Free decorative stone, also from Facebook Marketplace, currently in a “finding itself” phase while I figure out where it goes
- Perennial plants scientifically selected to repel ticks, mosquitoes, and other creatures whose entire existence is a personal attack on me
- Repainted Buddha’s sanctuary — a repurposed gazebo-style firepit that is absolutely the most “us” sentence I’ve ever written
- Decorative railings we’ve owned for years (don’t ask), freshly painted and installed in the corners with new ornamental grasses, because corners deserve love too
- A tripod sprinkler that waters the garden each morning while I get ready, which is the closest I’ve come to outsourcing my responsibilities and I have zero regrets
- A full herb garden, because nothing says “I have my life together” like growing your own basil while silently panicking about everything else
Oh — and my niece donated her gently used deck furniture to us. One line item, completely eliminated. My niece is the hero of this story.
A Brief Word on Juneteenth
I’d planned to do more to honor the day beyond quietly existing near my mosquito traps. It didn’t happen — the family schedule had other ideas. But I want to be clear: meaningful support for every community isn’t a single-day checkbox. It’s a practice. I show up where I can, when I can, and I’m working on showing up more often — including here, where my posting consistency has been, let’s say, aspirationally sporadic.
The Actual Point of All This
Here’s what I keep coming back to: the yard didn’t fall apart because we were lazy. It fell apart because we were human — stretched thin by things that actually mattered more. And slowly, project by project, free cinder block by free cinder block, we’re reclaiming it.
Take care of yourself first. But then — and this part matters — look up from your own yard once in a while and take care of the people around you too.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have larvae to destroy.
