My mother always said, "If you want something done right, do it yourself."
She also said I should douche and wear a sanitary belt, but that is not what this post is about.
I finally got tired of our half-dead flower beds and weed-ridden lawn. When my son turned 14 we reluctantly let our gardeners go and gave him the responsibility of mowing and edging. Let's just say he does a below-average job. What do you expect for $20 a month? He treats a weed in the yard like a dirty sock on the floor of his room. It is invisible to him.
Why won't my husband do it, you ask? He actually works long hours and claims the yard work has been "on his list". Plus, I don't want to nag him because I have learned that doesn't work anyway.
So, yesterday my mom's little voice whispered to me (not the one about 1950's feminine hygeine). Even though I had just worked out and was sweaty and exhausted, I headed to the garden store determined to make my dream yard a reality.
For under $60 I bought lavender plants, fertilizer, a bag of topsoil I could bearly lift, and a set of 6 solar garden accent lights. Three hours later, sunburned and aching, I stepped back to admire my work. Priceless.
I staged the little solar lights under some existing flowers and waited like a kid on Christmas Eve to see if they would work when the sun went down. They worked! Around 9pm my husband rolled up in his work truck and I quickly turned out the porch light so he would get the full effect. He just got out of his truck smiling at me.
And I smile every time I smell the lavender from the front porch, and when my cheap, little lights come on at twilight.