Prison Yard

It's Monday, the day I go out front and blow the leaves back onto the neighbor's parking lot that they blew into my parking lot yesterday, that I blew into their parking lot last week. It's a never ending cycle of "Out of sight, out of mind". Or as it is known here, "Out of my yard, I don't give a damn".

It has taken me twenty two years to get my yard to grow on its own without my watering it, mowing it, or paying any attention to it at all. I think it was about five years ago that the last blade of grass gave up and withered away. Now it is all ferns, trees, vines, and odd things that have taken to growing around the place. About once a month I do have a guy come over and chop back the jungle, making paths through it so that I and my tenants can get out to our cars. If I didn't do at least that little bit of maintenance we'd probably never be heard from again. So yes, I've learned how to maintain a Florida yard with the least amount of effort. What I am worried about is moving back to Chicago. We plan to buy a house with a Chicago type yard, something I haven't had to think about in nearly forty years. I don't know if I'll remember how it's done. I figure I'll have to buy a snow blower, a lawn mower, a weed whacker, various rakes and shovels, and maybe a tractor. I'm not sure what I would need a tractor for, but I see them advertised all the time on television and it looks like the homeowners are having a lot of fun on them. It's either that or I just order up a truck full of concrete. I'd only have to worry about the snow blower then. Oh, and I'd also need a shovel for the dog shit in the concrete back yard.