I've vowed not to do the full reveal till everything is finished, and right now the entire back yard is torn up and covered with weeds. Not just the part in front of my new apartment. I mean the entire back yard.
My daughter and SIL decided...and very rightly so...that the original layout of the yard, while perfect for a single older woman, was not conducive to play for the boys. The yard is small, and most of it was taken up by shrubs and flower beds, leaving very little grassy area in which the grandsons could cavort and commit mayhem, so my SIL wielded his mighty chain saw and removed the shrubs. Then it rained. By the time things dried out, the brush was very brittle. We decided we didn't want the headache...or the cuts and abrasions...of hauling it off, so we set about hiring it done. The first person who was supposed to come didn't show up, but we were luckier the second try...although that person came so late that he had to work by porch light.
Then it took a while to get all the roots tilled up. That was no fault of the workman with the tiller. He had to wait until several other things were done...particularly getting someone to flag the gas line, which we rightly assumed ran directly under the area to be tilled. More rain, this time with hail, caused a couple of delayed visits.
My SIL also had to wait for the flagging before he could jackhammer out a couple of sidewalks. One originally went to the carport/storage area, which was converted into my kitchen, closet/laundry room and bathroom, so it had become The Sidewalk to Nowhere. The other, in front of my apartment, was an eyesore and needed to be replaced.
Once that was done, the tilling had to be further postponed till we could get someone out to haul off all the rock and concrete my SIL had so dauntlessly and manfully broken up. There came the rub. The guy, who had delivered a diatribe against "flakes on Craigslist" when he hauled off the brush, stood us up the first evening he was supposed to come back. And the the next. And the next. Then it rained again. And rained. And then it was muddy for several days, delaying the haul-off even further. The guy finally showed up and took away most of the debris.
In the meantime, though, we discovered that the rest of the rock in front of my new apartment, which we thought we could finish digging up in a snap with a shovel, was buried so deeply that it would need to be jackhammered as well. The tardy rock hauler said he'd loan my SIL his jackhammer...to save another rental at Home Depot...and he also said he'd come back to pick up the last of the rocks the next day when he got his jackhammer. He finally showed up a week later. I opened the gate for him and then went back inside, only to discover that he had picked up his jackhammer but had left behind the rock.
The tilling was finally finished, and our brand new rake immediately broke. More delay was caused by trying to find the receipt and then time to exchange it. I think this is a perfect example of how the acronym SNAFU and Murphy's Law came into being.
So at the moment, the plan is to go on a marathon landscaping finish-up as soon as the last piece of furniture is moved into the new store location. Till then, we have a yard cart full of rocks that we're going to have to find a place to dump, dirt that needs to be spread, nandina and boxwood stumps/roots that need to be picked out of the dirt, an I-kid-you-not boatload of weeds...and sand. Where the sidewalk came up in front of my apartment, we found a ton of sand that was put down in 1950 when the house was built. After staying put for 63 years, it now migrates into my apartment in copious amounts every time the door opens. That doubles when the grandsons enter. They sit in it to play with their toy cars and trains, so they track in shoesful and pantsful. That is, unless they're busy committing the aforementioned mayhem, such as having stick fights or throwing chunks of concrete at each other. (Thanks for leaving those behind, flaky brush/rock hauler man.)
|If dirt is your thing, we've got it.|
|Did I lie about the weeds?|
|Or the sand?|
|A few baskets have been hung in back,|
along with some well-placed flags telling us where we can dig.
|A few more have been hung in front...but, as you can see, it's still looks like a war zone.|
The plastic lid as a stepping stone is a nice touch, don't you think?
Soon. Very soon.
::SIGH:: I hope.