It’s a jungle out there, baby, however not even Tarzan can help us now…

I thought after our last episode with the lawn, my out-of-doors woes had gone the way of affordable gas prices, never to pose the burden of being a luxury ever again, but it seems that there’s more to deal with outside of these doors than simply that green stuff scattered all over the ground in between the fire ant nests and toys that the neighbor kids never seem to pick up (“Next time I’m keeping ‘em!”).

It all came about the other day when I was walking back from our mailbox and couldn’t help but notice that the garden in front of our house was looking fuller than usual. This surprised me because despite numerous attempts, we haven’t really been very successful at growing anything out there and have pretty much adopted the philosophy of “Well, let’s just keep a low profile and hope that the rest of the existing plants that were here when we moved in don’t die along with our own…”

Unfortunately, though, upon closer inspection I came to learn that said budding garden wasn’t exactly thriving in population from desirable plants like flowers and the tropical foliage that I’ve grown accustomed to here in Central Florida, but rather just weeds – horrible, ugly-looking, good-fer-nothin’ weeds! And lots of ‘em, too – if you’ve ever wondered where the old adage grows like a weed came from, all hands point to that day in my garden because, let me tell you, they were everywhere…

They were everywhere, and thanks to my astute attention span that left them alone to grow in their weedy solitude for who knows how long prior, they were also big – I mean, many of these beasts were as tall as I am, with one gargantuan mother of the lot being even a good foot taller! And I’m not too much of a man to admit that Big Bertha, as I dubbed her that fateful afternoon, did intimidate me, but I knew what I had to do and after three or four cocktails to help me muster up the courage, I grabbed old Bertha right down near her massive roots and ripped her right out of the ground, shouting to the rest of the neighborhood, “Not in my garden!!!” as I held her wilted body over my head in triumph. From there I had confirmed their weakness – go for the roots – and war was officially declared in our front garden that warm, but overcast afternoon. As the day crept on, their numbers fell and the pile of weed carcasses grew larger and larger in my makeshift “Bring out yer dead!” cart that had previously been assuming the role of our garbage can. It was truly a sight to see – I was like Paul Bunyan, that is if he had been known for heroically weeding the garden of his small, suburban home instead of deforesting half of the continent with Babe, the Unnaturally Blue And Yet Nobody Ever Seemed to Question It Blue Ox.

When all was said and done, our garden had returned to normal, and albeit our remaining plants are still a little shaken from the whole traumatizing experience, I have a feeling they’re going to be ok in the long run. Sure, at this point they only have a few months to beef up for the winter, but at the same time, we live in Florida so in all reality those plants are very likely actually looking forward to the cooler temperatures that the coming of Santa Claus brings to our lovely, but also often times ridiculously hot region!

Besides, while I’d love to stick around and help to soothe their wounds, I’ve only got a couple of weeks left to spare before the masses begin to arrive here at Casa de Our House and time is of the essence! Why, just take a look at these few select items from my to-do list…

  • Feign back spider infestation in guest bathroom.
  • Find spare bedroom (assumption that it is located somewhere between junk piles 4 and 7).
  • Remove any items from refrigerator and freezer that reference 2006 or prior on their packaging.
  • Figure out how to get massive wine stain out of living room carpet.
    • Buy throw rug after learning that nothing will get that stain out of the carpet!
  • Clean fish tanks so that water appears to be a color common in aquariums that are cared for properly.
  • Shamefully wash pretty, red convertible for the first time since we bought it over a year ago… (but I’m sure the dealer washed it extra good before we bought it, right? Right?!)

And that’s just a portion of the list, so as you can see, I’m certainly going to have my hands full over the next couple of weeks – really, it’ll be a miracle if half of them get checked off before relatives start knocking on our door, but that said, if you just so happen to be a weed thinking that these next few busy weeks might be an optimal timeframe for taking back the land you previously seized in my garden, don’t think for a single iota of a moment that I won’t drop whatever I’m doing, even if it involves enjoying a delicious ice cream cone with my family, to come back out there and remind you who belongs in my garden and who doesn’t!

Come back when you’ve bloomed some flowers, ya jerks…