Yard Work

Working with my family in the yard is always interesting. My Father likes to work on odd jobs. He’ll start to organize the garage then start clipping the bushes, but never finish either one. Next thing I know, he’s shoving a garden hose into what he thought to be the dryer return vent. I decided to tell him that it was really just the bathroom vent, and that’s why no lint was coming out. The only thing that came out was a wasp nest, complete with wasps. I was somewhat tickled to see him dive off the ladder to escape their wrath. Meanwhile my sister is out in the yard in her pajamas, poking the ground with a stick. She will occasionally bring drinks out, or complain to our parents that I’m throwing rocks at her (it was ice, and she was just mad that it bounced off her shoulder and hit her in the head). My mother though, always has me working on some strange project. Yesterday, she wanted me to dig the grass out of a 3’ x 16’ square, even though we already have huge holes in our near dead grass (irony much?). Our dog tries to be as helpful as possible by rolling in the fresh dirt then tracking it inside. She will also try to steal things out of your hand that might seem valuable to her. After about two hours I’m finishing de-grassing the lawn, but did not notice that Dad and Jen have already snaked their way back into the house to watch a documentary on coal miners in the early 20’s.