My landlord is a bit of a fanatic about his lawn. Think I'm kidding?
Thursday is the the day for the lawn guys to come. I arrive home to a flurry of mowing and blowing and trimming - this goes on for at least 3 1/2 hours. Then, when it's all quieted down and I can finally relax and watch telly or read: he goes over their work.
Even though he "trusts" them to do the majority of the work, there's always something more to be done. It could be mulching. It could be retrimming the areas around the flower beds. It could be remowing something. It could be trimming the hedge that separates my backyard from their sideyard (to the point of it offering little to no privacy).
This goes on every week night and weekend, too.
Granted, all this work does mean he has a lawn to envy - nary a weed or blade of grass out of place. My father would love to have a lawn this wonderful.
So I'm particularly enjoying the fact that in the midst of this incredibly well-kept, well-groomed lawn are... mushrooms. Interlopers. That Which Does Not Belong.
hee hee hee