It is a well established fact of life, that when it rains, weeds grow.
Every weekend, I work for an hour picking the weeds out of the gravel. It seems to be a bit of a coincidence that as soon as one of the neighbors sees me plucking weeds, they start to work on their own yards.
And usually finish long before I do.
One hires someone. Another just whacks the weeds and rakes up the bits, leaving the nubs to grow again.
I sit on a folded yoga mat and pluck the weeds, one by one by one.
I’ve filled half the garbage can full of weeds and last year’s leaves and still I haven’t managed to pick the weeds from over 20% of the front yard.
Ah well, the work is slow but it allows me time to plan world domination, or maybe just my book.
Until next time.