Time to ‘Fess Up.

It’s true.  I cannot lie.  I am lazy.  No, no, don’t bother, ye who get “exhausted” reading my posts about all the things I have to take care of.  No, no.  That’s me being pushed against the wall, forced to take care of whatnot and whoseit, truth be told.  I so love a clean house.  Hate cleaning it.  I love a beautiful garden.  Hate weeding it.  Love a clean car.  What is UP with men getting all excited to clean theirs?  I think my mother rubbed off on me!  She always says she was meant to be a “Poule de Luxe” – which literally translates to a “Luxury Chick”  I could  be A-OK with sitting on my arse, book in one hand, something cool and refreshing in the other and while away the hours while someone else does the work.  Of course, I would never have that satisfaction you get from a job well done.  Or done as well as it could be.

I do this to myself EVERY SINGLE YEAR!  I take a stroll around my front yard and note the roses are surrounded, kept from showing off.  Those evil weeds just keep coming back.  I do have to hand it to them.  They are so very clever, insinuating themselves around the bases of plants that will gladly rip my skin off as I bring an end to their existence.  Of course I could use a claw-thingy (oh look, it’s called a “Cultivator” – thank you Google), and I do… but let’s face it, you can’t remove the corpses with other than your hands, encased in gloves, or not.

Having finally cleared out the weeds, I walked around my little “patio” in the front and was promptly refused access by the overgrowth of some tree – sorry.  I have absolutely NO idea what each and every plant is except for the lilac – and that’s coz I love them and I planted it there.  Anyway.  I sure hope my timing was okay but I spent a good hour pruning said trees and bushes so that I could, if I so wanted to set myself up to, sit on my little patio and watch any passersby pass by.

I can tell you.  I foolishly (or not) did not take any before pictures, but it shore to look perty now…

Now that I am looking at the picture, I am reminded that my, ummm, “shaping skills” must next be made to work on hedges and other shrubs… that one in the patio pic, in the back… looks like it’s having a bad hair day, morning-after-the-night-before style, don’t you think?  Maybe I should leave them to the experts.  Like when I call them, because I so want to spend more hard-earned dinero on this house before selling it, to trim my cedar hedges.  Mick used to do it every year but, since I need to pay, I think ever two is just fine.  Which means it’s this year.

Speaking of Mick, lemme just apologise to him right now – again.  He used to do almost all this stuff by himself.  The trimming of trees and laying down of mulch – reminder to self:  GET THE BLOODY MULCH so I don’t have to break my back for the rest of the summer.

And, finally, I get to the point of my post.  Talk about taking the scenic route…

Why, oh why, did your work ethic NOT rub off on us, Mick?  OK… maybe it was too late for me, (old dogs and all that) but could you not have been that little bit more influential on your sons?  They really did not have to take after me in this certain aspect.  OK… Maybe I’m being a little harsh on myself, maybe I’m not lazy per se, just not particularly organised, or rather, consistent.  It would definitely make my life a lot easier if I were.

So, I’m trying to change things up here.  I’ve been trying to show the boys that doing a little each day keeps things less discouraging.  That, I, too, work a full-time job but still get shit done.  That it’s okay to have moments to relax (post on my fabulous yesterday to come tomorrow) but that there must be times spent doing one’s share.  Would be insanely fabulous if they could do so without my having to nag and complain.

Trying to have MY newfound work ethic rub off on them…

… or something along those lines… 🙂