I went out in the back yard and hacked down some of the overgrowth that had occured while I was in NY.

I’m lucky my hubby remembered to water the plants at all…he had no idea how to cut back and prune.

So today, I went out there with the saw and fiskars and cut back some of the jungle.

My lemon tree had gotten about 14 feet high, and no lemons (bastard…make with the lemons!) and my rosemary bush had turned into a 7 foot high, 6 foot wide monster. (They say it grows well in a house where the woman is stubborn. I’ll say!)

I thought about my mom quite frequently. That back yard was hers, and I seldom did anything in it. She knew so much about plants and roses and all these neat mom things. I just go out and trim when it gets out of control, and pull weeds before they get too big.

Sometimes, when I’m working out there, I wonder that a 75 year old woman could maintain it as much as she did. It wears me out (granted, I have MS and have zero energy, especially in the hot sun) but she was on chemo for years, and never complained once. I think it comes down to her love of actual gardening…I just love the garden for leisurely activities, reading a book, etc. I like it to be orderly, but I don’t like getting it there.

She’s somehow with me, in mind, when I’m out there working on that yard.
So strange.