Written March 23, 2025
Hello Dear Readers,
This morning, I found myself engaged in a rare and noble quest: yard work. Not my usual weekend ritual, mind you. I typically leave the gardening to people with a stronger back and a greener thumb. But alas, when you live on a hill, gravity, and nature team up like villains in a buddy cop movie—always ready to make things harder than they need to be.
Now, our yard has a bit of a wild streak. If left alone, it doesn’t just grow—it plots. One year, we made the rookie mistake of letting the ivy do its thing. “It’ll look charming,” we said. “Like an English cottage!” What we got instead was a full-on plant invasion. The ivy crept up the side of our house like it was trying to break in. And since the exterior isn’t fully bricked, my wife was convinced it would start dismantling our home from the foundation up. We ended up yanking it off the wall like it owed us money and then spent the rest of the day cleaning up its leafy aftermath. Never again.
This week, my wife decided it was time to bring order to the front yard. She had asked me earlier to vacuum—yes, vacuum—the leaves from the front yard so she could tame some decorative plants that had begun asserting their independence. I agreed, of course, then promptly forgot. Saturday came and went in a blur of other tasks. Classic.
Luckily, the weather today was cooperative. My weather app promised rain… just not yet. So I suited up and got to it. Leaf vacuum in hand, I tackled the neglected zone while my wife charged in later with a weedwhacker, swinging it like a hedge-knight with a hedge-trimming sword. She’s been clearing weeds too—methodically, heroically, like she’s one step away from turning the whole place into a botanical museum.
Now, my wife is a loyal reader of Eat That Frog! by Brian Tracy. She’s constantly organizing, scheduling, and maximizing productivity. However, she claims she struggles with “putting things away,” though I think the real issue is her to-do list has more pages than War and Peace. When she blames herself for not getting everything done, I remind her we’re human, not calendar apps with arms.
Ironically, it was her beloved frog book that nudged me into action today. One of its golden rules? Don’t put off the tough stuff. So next time I’m assigned an oddball task, I’ll let my phone remember for me. Set a reminder. No excuses.
Because if you’re going to eat the frog, you may as well season it and serve it hot.