Sometimes I just kinda stumble through my life....
This weekend was one of those weekend when I just kinda stumbled around through everything. Or so it felt. I had a lot to do, things to catch up on. It was one of those weekend where I got a lot those things done, but not necessarily in the way I planned them.

When things start going like this, I think of my dad. I love this. He and I are a lot alike when it comes to our approach to doing things. We see something that needs to be done, we asses the tools or skills we have to do it, and we get after it. Eventually we usually find we chose wisely the method of which to undertake the task. Or, we have to dig further into our arsenal of 'ok, what if I try this, with the thing, attached to the other thing, and then pull here....' We tend to make stuff up as we go. We're inventive like that.

Having lots to do this weekend, since I was unable to accomplish anything more useful than getting sunburned at the lake last weekend, I had to use my time creatively. I had a few hours in between getting home from work and when I needed to be at my evening's activity, so I decided to attempt the mowing of my lawn in that amount of time. Simple enough, right?

Um....no.

I usually mow every week. I enjoy a neat, well-kept lawn. But I didn't mow last week due to not being home to mow. Thusly, my lawn had two weeks' worth of growth. Not only that, we've had a lot of rain lately. And by 'a lot', I mean torrential downpours nearly everyday. Consequently, the grass was frighteningly out of control. It was beautifully green and thick, mind you. But I underestimated what this meant for my lawn-mowing experience.

So I began with the weed-whacker. I hate this thing. But it's a necessity. I didn't get very far before I had to reload the trim line, due to an abnormally thick amount of turf creeping out over the edges of my driveway and sidewalk. The weed-whacking turned into a major chore. It took a long, long time. I stumbled around with the extension cord and the weeds and the turf flying everywhere. I'm sure it was quite a sight.

But once I finished, I was ready to mow. It usually doesn't take long to mow. Back and forth. No big deal. I've done it plenty of times.

However, as I mowed toward the middle of the yard, the grass got really, really, ridiculously thick. So thick, in fact, that my self-propelled mower was unable to self-propel it or myself. I actually had to push. You'd think I was mowing through a thick rainforest jungle. The self-propel feature was powerless against the foliage.

The mower, apparently, was growing weary of the struggle fast than I, because it decided to just stop. It quit. Many times. The thick grass would get caught up underneath and it would just lose the will to keep turning its blade to cut. I had to back the mower away from the pile of grass, pull the cord again, restart the mower, then pick up where we left off. Many, many times. I quickly figured out that this was going to take a long, long time.

I usually mow without the grass catcher, as I've been told to do. But I suddenly remembered that I do, in fact, have a grass catcher. And these piles of grass that the mower was leaving all of the lawn probably wasn't the best way to go at the moment. I decided that maybe if I bag the grass, it would get stuck in less piles, and would prevent the mower blades from getting stuck in the piles of grass underneath. This had to be the answer. So I grabbed the bag, attached it, and continued on my way.

But, the grass was also still kinda wet from all the rain. So it didn't really get sucked into the bag very well. It tended to get stuck in the opening to the bag, but not actually make it very far into the bag. It still left giant clumps of grass clippings directly underneath the mower, which still caused the mower to lose it's will to power through. More backing and restarting.

Soon I had most of a mowed lawn, but still not all. And I should have been finished long ago. I would not have time to also mow the backyard. I had giant clumps of grass everywhere that had already been mowed. I still had a ways to go. And I was very, very tired of fighting with the grass and the mower. But I couldn't quit now! I mowed on.

Eventually, I finished. It was glorious. Freshly cut grass..... and piles of grass everywhere. So much grass.....

Fortunately, though, I have a blower. Yes, a power blower. It's the greatest invention ever. Forget ever needing a broom! I just plug in the blower and blow everything away!

Except, apparently, large piles of wet grass. Oh, and did I mention the wind picked up right about now?

I began to blow the grass off the driveway, which usually is a small enough amount so that it's easily blown back onto the lawn. This is healthy for the lawn, apparently. And it works out nicely for me. No bagging or sweeping necessary.

But the more grass I blew with the blower, the more it just sort of heaved around in big piles everywhere. There was no place for it to go. And the wind kept un-blowing in the opposite direction of where I needed the grass to be blown. I was certain at that point that all of my neighbors were watching my 'Dance of the Wind-Blown Grass Clippings' from inside their houses, pointing and laughing at their crazy neighbor who was mowing her lawn and fighting grass in the wind on a Friday night.

After I used the blower for way longer than I needed to figure out that this plan was a lost cause (I was determined to win with the blower, refusing to admit defeat), I remembered that I do, in fact, have a broom. And sometimes I guess you do need a broom. I also have an old kitchen trash can that I use in the garage now. I decided to push the piles of wet grass clippings around with the broom, lay the trash can over on its side, scoop the clippings into the trash can, then place a trash bag over the can while tipping it into the bag, thereby depositing the grass clippings into the bag to be discarded.

A brilliant plan. Using my available resources.

So this is what I did. And it actually worked. Of course, by this time neighbors were 'out walking their dogs' past my house, which I am sure was just a ploy to get a close-up view of the action in my yard. I'm nothing if not a neighbor who puts on a good show for anyone who may be watching.

The rest of my weekend was much the same. Starting a task then realizing I'd gone about it in a way that wasn't quite working well, then having to re-adjust with what was available in my house or garage.

Some thoughtful individual had spray painted graffiti onto the back side of my nice new wooden fence, and I had been asked by the city to clean it up. What likely took 10.7 seconds to paint onto my fence took me an hour and a half of scrubbing with toxic chemicals to remove from my fence. By the end of the chore I had the water hose, rubber gloves, brillo pads, and old wash rags involved in the process. I even broke a shoe in all the scrubbing mayhem. But I am now an expert in the removal of spray paint from a wood surface.

Then I embarked on the project of keeping the birds out of my fig tree and away from my figs that I intend to pick and turn into preserves when they get ripe next month. Last year, the birds won the figs before I could get to them. This year, I intend to win. But how does one keep birds out of the world's largest fig tree??

I can always count on my mom for good, or perhaps just creative, suggestions to these types of situations. She's a faithful watcher of HGTV and had just happened to see a show about this type of problem. Her solution for me was to string those shiny disposable pie plates into the tree, which would scare away the birds and save the figs. Simple enough.

And quite festive. And/or fashionable, too. I almost suspected she was just telling me this to see if I'd be crazy enough to put pie plates in my fig tree, as though to ward off an alien attack or something. But I decided instead to trust that mom knows best.

So I did this. I bought pie plates and string, grabbed a hammer and nail, and began poking holes and stringing pie plates. Like I'd never done before. Because I hadn't. Ever. Why would I? It's a strange thing to do.

Then, I began climbing amongst my gargantuan tree to selectively place the pie plates in the most useful locations as to scare away the birds in the best possible way. I was determined to save my figs. With reflective pie plates.

But as I climbed around in the tree, I noticed a part of the tree in the back that was very, very dead. How did I discover this? I stepped on a branch that broke. A large branch. It really, really broke. Good thing I'm quite agile. I might still be trapped in the depths of my tree where no one would hear me call for help.... except the birds. Eating my figs.

So, this meant I needed to clear out the dead wood, which was now leaning on the good wood, and threatening to damage the very figs I was trying to save. Fortunately, I have a few pieces of lumberjacking equipment. For just such an occasion.

I got my limb clippers and a saw. I've never used a saw before in my life, but I have one. I decided this might be a good time to use it.

I climbed back into the tree and began cutting. I stumbled around with my sharp cutting devices, scraping and cutting myself on limbs, getting hit in the face with giant fig leaves, getting figs all up in my hair. It felt like a whole lot of hands groping at me. I'm pretty sure I never want to be touched again. Too much touching...

But eventually I chopped enough limbs to where I felt like I'd gotten all of the dead part I could possibly get. I began hauling out the limbs, getting hit in the face with more leaves and figs each time I went in and out of the tree. I bagged up the limbs and put them out of the way.

Done.

I took a break and sat at my patio table to watch the pie plates work their magic on the bird-scaring-away.

I watched one bird fly directly into a plate, hit it loudly, and fly right back out of the tree. Scared. Score.....

Then I watched five more birds fly into the tree and make themselves at home with a figgy snack.

Hmmmm.

Ok, so if I tie the other thingy to the stuff, then use the something or other with the thing, and I pull here with the do-hickey and the whatsit, then........

C.T.