My back yard has been a nightmare since I moved in. When I picked out this home for my Dad, I understood that most of the backyard was a garden. I knew there was no way I would use it, but figured Dad's wife might. When I bought the house from Dad and started really looking at the yard, I realized it was not a garden at all. Half the yard had been covered in red rock, but no underlay had been set down first. When the weeds grew - as they are apt to do - the owners prior to my father rototilled them into the ground. Which left me with - no rock, no garden, no grass and weeds with a knack for growing to 4 1/2 feet.
The backyard to me is my oasis. It is my place where I go to hide from reality and play with the dogs and engage in tanning or napping or fetch. It is my calming place where I recharge. Not so much with this yard. I grew frustrated with the three feet by 10 feet of grass. I grew frustrated with the crab apple tree that is littering the ground with fruit I cannot use. I grew frustrated with weeds and dirt and rock. And I let the entire yard go to the dogs. (That was going to be a metaphor, but it's actually true).
Finally, I had decided I had enough. After much research and debate, I called the bobcat to come rip the hell out of my yard. They came this week and tore it to shreds. They deposited a ton of new topsoil and leveled it out the best they could. Now I am waiting for the sod to arrive - they said Tuesday now it might be Thursday... or next week. Awesome.
It is starting to look like it might be a good place for me after all. I am going to sod it eventually and soon it will be a place I want to spend my time. Until then, I will have to hang out inside and watch TV.