Ode To "The Landscaper"

My Dearest Landscaper:

You may have noticed me peeking from behind the curtain yesterday. I watched as you maneuvered that mower around the flower beds with ease. You sculpted those hedges in minutes flat with those large tools you carried on your back. The yard could have easily been mistaken for a tourist attraction where families gather during the weekends or vacation. You may have also noticed the tear running down my cheek for you were just a few feet beyond my property line. Sadly, you belong to my neighbor.

See Mr. Landscaper, my husband refuses to hire you. His DIY attitude may have saved us some fat cash, but just look what we've gained: calluses, dehydration, lower back pain, sunburn, just to name a few.

To be honest, I love the outside. Planting flowers really doesn't bother me either. But even with a small property, I find the upkeep is quite a battle. For every weed I pluck from the ground, three more pop through the soil the next day. I can feel them laughing at me.

For once I would love not to worry about sneaking out during the dawn to water the flowers and search for those pesky weeds that emerged overnight. For once I would love to have a manicure that is not being challenged by the mulch found under my fingernails. For once I would like not to worry about scary birds that dive-bomb my head because they have decided to take refuge in my new flower pots.

Today as my dear neighbor left for work I saw exactly what a life with a landscaper looks like. My neighbor brandished a beautiful manicure, as I tried to scrape the black dirt from beneath my nails. Not one hair was out of place on her head. A messy ponytail which resembled a bowl of uncooked spaghetti with a home dye job topped my mound. While the smell of fresh flowers poured from her car, a mixture of sweat and cow manure toppled from my frame.

Since I'm almost positive that coveting your neighbor's landscaper is breaking one of the ten commandments, we will have to go about this a different way. I've come up with plan. Let's call it: Operation Circumference. This is how it will work. Each time you circle around my neighbor's property you'll move five feet closer toward my property. Before anyone notices (except me of course) my yard will be a gorgeous oasis. Payment can be found two feet to the right of the pink rose bush and below the new Mickey Mouse statue in the front garden.

My Dearest Landscaper, may you hear my cries for help or at least acknowledge me as I push my wheelbarrow filled with mulch across my back yard. Until then, please excuse my manners and stares from afar.

Sincerely,

Mommy Maestro