It's partially done

It was the backyard.

"There is grass taller than 12 inches and there are small saplings, like 1 1/2 inches in diameter, leaning against the fence."

What?

Oh, I get it: The guy was irritated he had to go out and check that the alleyway was clear, so he looked for something else to write me up on.

The grass has mostly been removed. I suppose the complaint was the timothy that had invaded the tomato garden but just to be sure I weed-whacked everything I could reasonably get to that wasn't mowed when I mowed last.

I cut a few saplings and hauled them to the curb (And dangit, the next bulky pick up isn't until Sept. 3. Oh well. I might ask around and see if someone with a pickup truck wants to make a quick $50)

I now have a blister- the trimmer line wrapped hard around the inner workings and I spent quite a bit of time gently pulling and unwinding to get it out. (Luckily, the motor hadn't burned out. At one point I thought, "Forget this; the motor's probably shot, just go get a new one." I probably saved $70 by keeping on going even though it took a long time and I got the blisters)

My fear is that now, every time they send their guy out to check I fixed the previous thing, he'll find something new, until I either burn my house down and run far, far away or hire a lawn service or nuke ALL the plants in my yard and put down big stones and tell them to suck it.

(Maybe I need to make a scarecrow and put it in my backyard? And have it displaying one finger of its gloved hand?)

What gets me is the assumption that people have endless time and resources to deal. Are they this short with the 90-year-old disabled widow on a small pension? The single dad whose wife just left him and is trying to care for three kids? The new immigrant who is working on earning citizenship and learning English and adapting to a new culture?

I don't know. I have more "spoons" than a lot of people and dealing with this kind of thing used up all the spoons I had left for today.

(The Spoon Theory is usually used as a metaphor for those with a chronic illness or disability to explain how they have limited energy and once it's used up, it's used up, but I think everyone has a certain limitation on the number of "spoons" they have. I may have more than many people but that doesn't mean I have infinite spoons. Mine tend to be more emotional than physical energy, but you get the idea).

But yeah, I also used up my physical energy: the dewpoint is currently 70 and the heat index is 101 and as I was hauling brush I noticed I was starting to feel slightly chilled, which is a bad sign. I kept powering through though because I wanted to hit the poison ivy with another dose of herbicide. I wasn't very effective at that because I kept having to "take a knee" because I was getting dizzy. I wound up showering and washing my hair sitting in the tub because I was afraid enough that I might pass out. I feel some better now but I guess I was close to heat exhaustion.

So, once again the manuscript I was GOING to write on didn't get worked on. It's almost 4 pm, I'm tired, my hair is wet, and I'm in a bathrobe so I don't know that I can force myself to go back today. I WAS going to go to Sherman tomorrow but maybe I just need to shop at the local Voldemart (which of course provides lovely sales tax revenue for my town; we have a tax on groceries and our total sales tax, including a couple of local measures for stuff, is close to 10%. Texas has no sales tax on groceries, and also has better stores...