Mulch madness.

It was the mulch that did it.

Before we moved to the suburbs, I thought gardening was a hobby for well-mannered senior citizens who wore long gloves and big floppy hats and pruned a bit each morning as they hummed their favorite oldies. I thought keeping up a yard meant mowing and watering. The End. I thought picking out lovely plants and keeping them in good shape just meant going to the nursery, saying "I'll take those, those, and those," and then they'd magically show up in our yard, and because I'm a spunky sort who doesn't need things done for me, nossir, I'd plunk them into neat holes that wouldn't be any problem to dig. Maybe I'd make Scott dig them, if the holes were large.

I was wrong on all these counts, of course. Planting and gardening involves science and heavy lifting. It involves endless weeding and finding out that your yard is composed of clay and unexpectedly large rocks. It means pulling muscles you never knew you had. Gardening is not for sissies. Those old people who like to garden? I wouldn't mess with them if you paid me, now. Who knows what they could do with a shovel?

But the mulch, damn it, the mulch was too much. I knew about mulch and its importance, vaguely, so the first time I planted some things I came home with a couple of bags of mulch—which were surprisingly heavy! Huh!—and proceeded to pull every muscle in my body dumping them out all over the garden bed, my feet, and most of my legs. I raked the mulch around, and then saw how little of the ground I had covered. And I wept.

It turns out, and I know you know this and you're shaking your head at what an idiot I am, you need truckfuls of mulch. You need to visit Mulch Planet, and fight the natives until they surrender or die, and then denude their Mulch Mountains and Valleys, and transport all that mulch directly to your backyard, and maybe that would be enough. So much mulch, you need.

And the mulch doesn't stay. It goes. And then you need MORE MULCH.

A sane person would say, well, we could have hired a landscaping company to do the lawn upkeep and the mulching for us. That would have been the sane, sensible thing to do, but it would also be the thing to do if we had any cash with which to do that. Sadly, if we were to keep our yard looking halfway decent, we'd have to perform the upkeep ourselves.

I thought I'd get used to the fertilizing, the pruning, and of course the mulching. But I never did. I'm sorry to say this, yard, but now I dislike you. I see you and you're just a nagging reminder of all that I need to do, all that I haven't done, or the half-assed job that I did do just to make myself feel better. And now that I've mulched everything in the front yard that required mulching and I can't lift my arms without screaming, I am officially over having a yard. I want to move to a magical place where I'm only responsible for the inside of my home. Where if I feel any guilt, it's just because I haven't used the vacuum cleaner in a week.

Comments

[Deb]

The mystery continues.....suspense builds....where is Finslippy going?

[Nicole]

Oh, I am so with you there. When we bought our house two and a half years ago (at the peak of the market? why yes!), I didn't harbor any illusions about my love of yard work and home maintenance, but I really didn't know how much I don't like those things until I was actually responsible for doing them. Sucks that I had to put myself in debt for the next 300 years to find that out.

I've decided that home ownership, in many ways, is totally the opiate of the masses. We'd all like to get out and make the world a better place, but we're so damn busy making the money we need to pay the mortgage and keeping up the home that we can't do anything but that.

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

Anxiously awaiting the next post, in a totally non-stalkerish fashion.

[Leia]

That is why I love my apartment! I wish you luck in your quest for no yard living.

[bessie.viola]

Oh, I am so with you. We live on an acre and I.HATE.IT. The guilt, the mulch, the plants... all of it!

[HeyJoe]

Dearest Alice,

I have learned that love of gardening is not hereditary. Dad loves, Joe hates. In short, gardening sucks. This is why we have Francisco.

The End.

Stanchly,
Joe

[JennyW]

Now if you were TOTALLY hardcore, you'd make your OWN mulch. Compost = FUN! (Har har.)

[natasha]

I fought the natives of Mulch Planet and it was I that surrendered and died. OK maybe not DIED, but wished I had!

My house is on the market too, and I wish you only the best as you live much to far away to be competition...

[steph]

A week?! I'm doing good to vacuum twice a year.

The other day my son saw the the custodian's cart at his school, pointed to the mop and asked "what's that?"

[Beth]

Where. Are. You. Going?

[Carrie]

You should see the "vegetables" I grew this year. (pics @ http://www.myfunnyfunnyfamily.com/2008/10/who-needs-economy-well-just-eat-off-our.html) I thought having my own garden would be such a frugal, easy solution! heeheehee. At least it will all be covered in snow soon and all we'll have to do is shovel and curse.

[Pretty Jane]

Have you been reading my diary again??

Every time I pull into the driveway and see our yard, so poorly maintained with the paltry sum we're willing to devote to the task, I feel sad inside.

(Sigh.)

[Kim]

A big draw of moving from the city to the country was room for a garden and a nice stretch of yard on which the kids and dogs could frolic.
Ha!
Due, in part, to garden/yard upkeep we were back in the city in under a year. Oh, sweet city life.

[Marisa]

Thank you thank you thank you! I'm so happy not to be alone in my hatred of all things yard-ish. Growing up in the country, I never imagined how much time even a small semi-urban yard could take. I loathe my yard.

[chiquita]

Amen, sister. I also hate my yard. It got so bad our neighbors (with much attitude) if they could prune the tree that hangs over to the road. Sure, have at it!

I would move if it weren't so damn much work. (and if the economy wasn't in the toilet, and if I didn't have an infant...)

[Lori L.]

I feel your pain. The bad thing about these landscaping endeavors is that you must finish what you started, or face shame from the neighbors.

[Hi Kooky]

And so you're moving to a place with no yard? Back to the city? Dangity dang! Tell us!

I'm sorry your arms are sore. We battle the mulch here too.

[Keetha]

I once neglected and killed an aloe vera plant, a houseplant, which was, you know, inside at the time.

This weekend I may rake some leaves, if someting appley and cinnamony with alcohol is involved afterwards. Otherwise, no yardwork for me.

[amigurumigirl]

HAHAHAH I'm sorry that I'm laughing so hard at your gardening adventures because I know it's SO not funny that you're in pain etc. , but you really do have a way of describing things. (~_^) Hang in there!

[G]

You are looking at this the wrong way. You don't need to invest in a landscaping company to have your mulch spread. You order in some truckloads of mulch and hire some gyus at $15/hr to spread it where you want. A good layering of mulch an last for 3-4 years and you just need to add a bit more then every other year. I'm too old to spread mulch myslef and the dr's bills would be more that the cost for some outsourced labor.

[Magpie]

I hear you, sister. We're on the move too, and I'm looking for houses that have a big ole patio surrounded by a teeny tiny bit of green space. Preferably so little green space that I'll be able to use a pair of clippers to keep the lawn in shape. And, I'll spend all the time I spend now taming my lawn, hedges, flower beds, trees on drinking margaritas on my simple patio.

[Susan]

I totally agree. I used to have a house on about half an acre, and the yard work made me aware of my lower back (not a good thing.) Now I live in a condo, and feel guilty about the things I neglect inside. Careful what you wish for!

[Heather]

The trick to handling bagged mulch with no pain = be sure it's dry. Don't buy bags of mulch that have recently been rained on, and don't let them get rained on before you dump them out! Wet mulch kills.

[Stu]

maybe if you called it a garden instead of a yard, it would sound more attractive? That's one of those americanisms I've never understood. To me a yard has connotations of bare concrete, some weeds, somewhere you park the car and maybe play basketball or something. Whereas a garden has lush things growing and is a pleasant place to be.

[Meesha]

Which is why I was overjoyed to purchase a flat instead of a house several years ago. Our top-floor unit has a lovely deck, which looks down on a lovely garden, which is the full property and complete responsibility of the downstairs neighbors. Of course, we're also lucky that the downstairs neighbors are gardening enthusiasts.

[BOSSY]

Bossy smells a condo.

[BOSSY]

.. in the city...

[crazylovescompany]

mulch is evil. I think it shrinks as you spread it around. I wish I could go back to the days of the townhouse; when all we had was a 4x4 square of back patio with just 2 small low maintenance bushes and a potted plant. The front yard was handled by the HOA and it looked wonderful. sigh. The good old days.

[MichelleB]

Gardening is hard work. Me and my hubby have a nice garden in the back of our house but he loves to take care of it more than me. So this weekend during our 10th anniversary he bought me a pair of gorgeous diamond earrings from www.idonowidont.com and I surprsed him with all new gardening tools so get rid of all those weeds and plant roses!

[TheQueen]

I have progressed to the stage in which I am trying in vain to kill my garden. It would seem I gave it such good care in its youth nothing will kill it now. That is why I pruned my climbing rose with a chainsaw last weekend. And forget mulch. It smells bad, and as you note, it evaporates.

[Angie]

Yeah. WFT? No matter how many bags of mulch you buy, thinking surely, this is waaay too much.....you are always at least one bag short. I've started coming up with a figure of how many bags I 'think' I need and then adding 10. It's worked a couple of times.

Apartment living sounds good - no yard! Who has time for this shit?

[islaygirl]

i had a big house with a big yard, and since i live in the desert southwest, most of that yard was a horrible gravel, and STILL it became a jungle.

Then i moved to to a townhouse, with a postage-stamp sized yard and exactly five plants, and STILL i spend entire weekends caring for it. HOW i ask you, HOW.

If it weren't for the dogs and the delight of a dog door, all i would need would be a balcony.

[Mrs. Gregorton]

I don't know what mulch is or what it does but if I see any I'll be crossing the street. Come join us on the houseboats! All the togertherness of a cul-de-sac minus the yard work.

[Courtney]

Yeah, my husband wants to move into a house, but I'm totally okay with apartment living as long as it means that I have no yard to maintain. I do not envy you. At all.

[patois]

Ah, that is the reason I live on a wooded, hilly lot in a tree house. No plants but the wilds.

[Mulch Madness!]

Ah, Mulch Madness! This is the term my own father uses to refer to annual delivery of the 75+ bags of mulch which his yard requires. It is always quite impressive to see that quantity of mulch stacked in the driveway. He then, wisely, hires someone to help him put it around. He is wise like that.

I love that you found the same phraseology as my dad in writing about your own gardening woes. It's almost like you are one of the family now (Care to join us for Thanksgiving?).

[Pandechion]

Come back to Brooklyn...come back to Brooklyn...

--Your former neighbor

[Joanna Schmidt]

I feel your PAIN. My arms are strong from gardening.

[Cat]

Don't feel bad...mulch is the devil. And I haven't used my vacuum in a week times four.

[Shirty]

Amen, sister! I have a townhouse across the street from a fantastic city park. My son has a great place to play, and I never do a bit of yard work or gardening beyond killing potted flowers every summer. Everybody wins!

[b]

Come to Brooklyn. It's nice here.

[No Mother Earth]

And this is why the outside of my house is a sad, dilapidated mess. That, and I have a Black Thumb.

[Sophie, Inzaburbs]

I know, I know.
We have an "easy care" front yard. What "easy care" means, in fact, is that all we have to do is spread fertilizer twice monthly, spread several hundred dollars worth of mulch twice yearly, pay for the sprinkler system to be fixed when it breaks (don't just switch off the broken portion, like I did, because then you will also be *replacing large patches of lawn* and that is not cheap either), and, of course, pay the lawn service.
Let's not forget the pruning. I lopped the sticky outy parts of the hedges off myself, but couldn't reach the tops. So the hedges have alien antennae. We thought we would save on a tree service this year. Result? A branch came down in a hurricane and flattened the fence. We could have paid five tree services with what it cost to put back up again.

Are you moving back to Brooklyn?

[Jordan]

This is helpful to me. We live in a condo in Chicago where we do NONE of the yardwork. Our condo-mates, who love gardening, do it. I'm, well, the Treasurer. Not because I'm fantastic with money, but because it's *not* gardening. But at times I indulge in that fantasy of moving into a single family home and having a garden...my husband thanks you for bursting that little fantasy.

[Maren]

See, what you need to do is have a tree fall ON your house, and then to punish said tree, you mulch it up into billions of bits. Although...even then the 7 yards of mulch we got didn't make a dent in the 3 1/2 acres. Or if you have a cute little town you can get free mulch from everyone's yard trimmings, but you have to shovel it yourself. That is not fun...

[Nikki]

Maybe this is why people down here use so much pine straw instead of mulch? I'm way too lazy to have learned this by experience, but I think your hard work has really helped me better understand my neighbors. I still like mulch better, but not muscle injury better.

[Suseoin]

I hear you! Even halfway across the world I have the same problem. The good old Aussie back yard - fantastic for the kids - pain for mum and dad. The effort! The mowing! The weeding! The lack of time to do any of it! Who with kids can look after a garden properly? Not us. Good luck with the sale.

[Ray]

Mulch? Yard? I refuse to look beyond the concrete of my driveway. If there is any mowing or yard work done, I do not know who does it. I prefer my sandpit, where I do my ostrich immitation: yard? what yard?

Besides, the inside is absolutely enough to keep me busy.

[Robin]

Ok, so just beware of the critters that come when you build that beautiful yard!! Deer--DEER!!! (cue the buggs bunny music, the kind that plays during the sun rising over the green quiet misty glades....)
Mean ornery deer that bang on your front door waiting for the REST of the garden you didn't mean to take inside with you. The deer that tackle halloween pumpkins--BEFORE they're carved. No sweet fallish displays including real live pumpkins here ma'am. The deer that rush the dog bowls when they're being fed... a gang of doe are scary!!
Let's not forget the porcupine that wandered into the back yard looking for whatever. 3 of our 4 dogs ended up looking like pincushions with one having to make the trip to the vet for quill removal (I still have the baggie of quills!).

Gardening rocks!!!

[mostcurious]

Ah, yes. Mulch. Mulch is evil. I loved the description of having to go to Mulch planet.

Good luck!

[Barb]

I'm thinking frosted windows would be a good idea. If you can't actually see the outdoors, do they really exist?