Conquering Mount Mulch

There's only one yard chore I hate more than weeding. It's dealing with the huge black mound at the end of our driveway.



Every spring its delivery brings a pit to my stomache and a gulp to my throat. "Does it seem even bigger than last year?" - I curiously say to Ellie's Dad. "Nope" he replies, "I ordered the usual." "Hmmm..." we both say in unison as we scratch our heads and then grudgingly walk to the shed to grab our wheelbarrows and shovels.



A neighbor drives by and then stops. "Whoa!" he says, "that's a mighty large pile of mulch you got there - boy it will take you all weekend to put down!" I glare at him and then smile as I politely walk away grumbling "no kidding" under my breath. I didn't need him to state the obvious.

One year we were so daunted by the black mass that we just let it sit there in our driveway for most of the summer. We walked around it, drove around it, cats used it as a litter box, and the neighbor's kids thought it was just so awesome. Finally it was shame that brought us to our knees as a friend asked if we were going to use it as a ski slope in winter.



Last year we thought we were smart by avoiding the whole thing all together and not ordering any mulch. "I love weeding!" I exclaimed to Ellie's Dad. "Yeah right," I whispered sarcastically to myself. "It relaxes me and I can do a little each night," I said as I tried to convince both he and I. "Well come to think of it we could save the money for something else," he says with way too much enthusiasm. You know the end to this story - we spent the whole summer weeding until we were blue in the face.

As a result this year mount mulch was indeed higher than usual as we tried to catch up from last summer's weeding nightmare. We conquered 5 yards this weekend and sadly it wasn't enough. We still need at least 3 or 4 more.

Ellie at the summit...



It's times like this when for a brief moment I wonder why I have so many garden areas. Wouldn't life be simplier if I just had more grass? Mowing is a lot easier than caring for a garden. But, as quickly as that thought crosses my mind it dispels as I look at the shear beauty of a spring bloom - all is forgotten.