My hands are aching from pulling chucks of matted grass out of my Mom's flower bed. She's been trying to clean out the grass for years. It's quite ferocious and consuming of flower space. In my attempt to find ways to exercise, I volunteered to dig up the grass. Now I have a project that I feel compelled by guilt to finish. So instead of working on grading papers or my last lecture, I will probably be pulling more grass in a desperate search to find new growth of the perennials.
The reason I got sucked into pulling grass was to manage my girls after school. My hubby was off in a canyon with clients and my girls can get bored real quick if they don't have enough stimulation to occupy there busy brains. They're banned from the Wii and the main computer keeps messing up. I do encourage playing outside but the two oldest would have to keep an eye on their baby sister which in turn means I watch all three of them and get nothing done. My Mom has five acres and no busy neighborhood street to worry over. I figure five acres should give each kid their own space from antagonizing each other. What do they do? They find the one spot with mud to crowd around and make mud pies. They're cute when covered in mud playing, but then one person has more mud than the other person, one person shakes mud onto the other's hair, and then we have genuine mud slinging. I tell them mud is done. Now I have to be in the same general area as them to keep the peace - so much for doing much in the garden. This is where the grass pulling came into play, a neutral location among warring sisters. However Mom appreciated the effort and I feel less guilty as well as productive. Feeling productive is good. Although by the end of tomorrow I will probably wish to have been more productive on other projects.
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