Here Are The Absolute Worst Things About Yardwork Now That It's Almost Spring

It’s Wednesday, which means it’s time to gather ‘round for another good ol’ fashioned complaint fest in an all-new edition of The Gripe Report.

So, spring is coming up, and in most of the country that means the weather is getting nice, which could only mean one thing: you’re either going to have to start doing yardwork or are running out of excuses not to do yardwork.

My relationship with yard work has evolved over the years.

Have a gripe? Send it in!: matthew.reigle@outkick.com

When I was a kid, I think I would’ve rather been in school than trimming this or wheel-barrowing that.

But now, as an adult, I kind of like it when I can do some of it.

Not much, though. I live in a rented townhouse, so we’ve got people who handle most of the yard work, but occasionally I like to get my hands dirty by drowning a few ants with some spray my wife bought on Amazon, or yanking a couple of things that sure look to me like weeds out of the ground.

But it’s not all fun and games… in fact, it isn’t at all; it’s yard work.

And there are a few parts of it that really suck.

These kids probably want to play PlayStation so bad right now. (Getty Images)

Pulling Weeds

Pulling weeds is, without a doubt, the most Sisyphean of all yard work endeavours.

It. Just. Never. Stops.

I feel like it’s that episode of I Love Lucy where Lucy and Ethel get jobs in a chocolate factory (right now you’re thinking, "Yes, I know it’s the most famous episode of anything ever).

I also hate that weeds appear in places where no other plants can even dream of showing up.

The walkway up to my front door is brick, and there’s a bunch of little weeds that are always trying to grow up in between the cracks. The same thing happens in my driveway.

I wish good plants could do that, but, nope, only weeds have figured out this party trick.

Just once, I’d like to walk outside and be like, "Whoa, that’s a tomato plant! We’re doing BLTs for lunch!"

I think we should just eradicate weeds. I know someone is going to say it would throw our ecosystem out of whack, but I’m willing to take that chance. 

The bugs that eat the weeds will find something else to eat.

They’re bugs. They’re not picky. They will eat dog poo. 

I think they’ll be fine figuring out something else green and leafy.

Mulch

I think I still have PTSD from when my family would order mulch.

When you’re a kid, there is literally nothing worse than when the dump truck would show up and dump a big, foul-smelling pile of mulch in your driveway, and your parents would make it a family activity to haul it all around the outside of the house.

Maybe there are worse things that could happen when you’re a kid — getting your hand caught in a blender, being lured into a van driven by clowns that steal your organs — but it’s close.

Very close.

The greatest day of my childhood was when my parents decided they were going to tell mulch to pound sand with mulch and put rocks around the flower beds, since you do that once and it’s done for many years.

I just hate mulch in general. I’m not even sure what it does; it looks stupid, it blows everywhere, and you track it inside.

Also, it leaves a big spot on your driveway for a while, so even after you finish wheel-barrowing it around your place, you’re reminded for a few more days just how awful mulch is.

I mean, just this weekend, I was out somewhere and was punched in the face by that horrible, musty mulch smell.

Seriously. F--k mulch.

There's just something about zenning out and mowing the lawn that I miss. (Getty Images)

Not Having A Lawn To Mow

I live in a townhouse that has a nice back patio/courtyard area between the house and the garage, but no yard.

And I won’t lie: I miss mowing.

I mean, ‘round these parts, mowing is revered (shoutout Thursday Night Mowing League).

Obviously, many of you are aware of how great it is to throw on an old pair of raggedy, green-hued sneakers, pop in some earbuds, and just zen out while you try to make your yard look like Augusta National, only for it to come out looking like the local pitch ‘n putt.

I miss that.

When the landscapers drop by the neighborhood, I sometimes want to ask if I can take one of their zero-radius mowers for a quick spin for old time’s sake.

Maybe I will next time they drop by, I just don’t know when that is. They have a weirdly random schedule. 

Seriously. I’ve lived here for a year, and I have no idea what day they come. 

I just go outside, and there’s a guy with a leaf blower out on the sidewalk, and that tells me it's landscaping day.

Gardening In General

A weird familial quirk of the Reigles is to suddenly, and somewhat impulsively, decide you need something.

Never anything cool or expensive. Usually, just like a microplane for the kitchen to zest citrus, a model car kit and the tools required to put one together, or a big sack of Rainier cherries for snackin’ despite having not eaten them in years.

Those are all actual examples, and I decided I needed a lemon tree. 

I always forget to buy lemons at the store, and figured if I had a lemon tree, I could just walk outside and grab one.

So I started looking into this, and then I remembered something: gardening absolutely sucks.

When I was a kid, we planted a garden. I remember thinking it would be cool to grow our own food, like it was Little House on the Prairie. 

I forgot that they weren't doing that for fun; they were doing it to not die.

I quickly realized I was wrong about gardening when, after weeks of watering, weed pulling, and literally watching grass grow, we were left with one inedible watermelon, half a tomato, and a bell pepper that kind of looked like the Elephant Man.

Yay, gardening…

Back to my lemon tree. Sure, there would come a time when I would be the Grand Poo-Bah of lemons, but it would take one to two years before the tree yielded anything.

Plus, it would cost me like $100+ to buy the tree, when I could just go to the grocery store and buy a better lemon than the deformed, sin-against-nature I’d probably grow and be done with it.

…

That's it for this week's edition of The Gripe Report.

Now go out there and get to work, but before you do, be sure to send in your gripes!: matthew.reigle@outkick.com