Dirt Catharsis - Like a Golem.
You know this one: I went out to get the mail but I could not just walk past the bucket, the hedge clippers, and the weed-monster. The stand of poke-berry was taller than I am; I wish I'd taken a before-photo. We aren't ready for the after- yet; the area looks like we're midway through a Marine's first haircut. I do yard-work only when the landlords aren't home. It's not like they'll rush out and stop me, but I'm preventing an unknown awkwardness which makes sense to my inner mind. Some weird balance is struck; so be it. It took a year of living here before I was comfortable making moves against the foliage. At first I wasn't sure how many of the cars coming and going actually belonged to the household or who was in charge of what duties. Since the kids moved out, and it's just Mr. and Mrs., I have a good sense of what gets done and why - time and mobility limits most likely apply. Also, I now get paid to feed their cat when they ...