Before I start this blog, please know that I am not calling anyone a garden tool. I am literally refering to a garden tool; the most amazing garden tool on the face of this weed stricken ball we live on. Allow me to back up a bit...
I received a letter in the mail from my landlord. Assuming that it wasn't a greeting card or last month's rent reimbursed to me, I reluctantly opened the white envelope. My suspicions were correct about the rent; it was a - and I quote - "Friendly Letter" from the Home Owners Assosication in our neighborhood, Finley Farms. Let me first say that Jeremy and I have been extremely busy with church, work, the flu, and rearranging our sock drawers. The letter stated in a very P.C. way that we needed to clean up our yard or else. I will admit that our tree looked like one giant bush, our Arizona rock yard was green with weeds, and our broken water hose had been sunbathing for quite some time. The outside had just not been a priority. (obviously)
So, I strap on my Nike's, put tiny plastic picking up poop bags on both my hands and dig right in. In case you don't already know this, trying to dig up weeds in rocks is not the easiest of challenges. One of my neighbors walks by, stands there, stares at me, and professes, "So, you got your letter from the HOA, huh?" Now that's sad when the neighbor notices how embarassingly bad your yard is that he knows the HOA sent you a piece of mail about the issue. But then, the most rejoiceful event took place, he introduced me to the Hula Ho. It's a simple looking machine, really. One long, wooden handle with a hollow square attached at the end. All you have to do is slide that puppy across the white rocks and presto! The weeds pop up before your very eyes! It's brilliant! A whole lot easier than hand picking 10, 568 weeds.
I went the whole 9 yards that night baby. I trimmed the trees, swept the front porch, bought a new unmolded, green welcome mat that states, 'Welcome' in cursive with black swirlies to the left of the bold letters. Gotta love Target. I even bought myself some purdy workin' gloves. After about the tenth cut from the sharp rock that the poopie baggies did not prevent, I decided to splurge with some real life gardening gloves. That is an investment that my hands thanked me for later. Hopefully, the HOA will show mercy and forgive us for our thumbs not being green.
Well, that's my Hula Ho story...and believe me...I'm stickin' to it.
