Doing the hard work

No better day, really in which to dig your hands into the dirt. I connect with it. My blood pumps when the small sharp grit of dirt slides and lodges under my fingernails. The sore temple, knees aching with the hyperextension achieved on bended back. Did it always feel like this? Maybe I should get on my knees and dig those dandelions out. Already two hours invested and the front yard is barely clear of those baneful yellow flowers. The second largest problem is looking at the scope of the project. Hidden in two years worth of cultivating deep green grass, they lie in wait. Some not yet bothering to show their seeds. So many this year. It's as if I haven't looked at the grass for years. When did it all get so think with them? So I dig my hands in till the blisters appear on my fingers, evidence of sliding along the trowel. Only the front done? Better break for a beer and cool this blister trying to overtake my thumb. The biggest problem? If you don't do it right, if you don't get to the root and really take it out of the earth, it just comes back later. Sure you get a small reprieve, longer than just mowing over the tops of them, sending their seeds into mulch. They want to rebuild because they want to live on. The power of that is strong. You have to eliminate every trace of them from your soil or they will return, sometimes stronger than before, with deeper roots and stronger spikes, a few more ants on their flowers to bite when you reach into the girth of the plant to pluck it. If you want to have the beauty of it; If you love the accomplishment and accolades; If you want the pride of preservation, you do it. You put in the hard work and your reward will show the strength of your effort.

So do it.