Ok, so you know how sometimes you talk to your significant other, think you’re on the same page and then later find out that you weren’t. I think that happened today with my landscaper.The lawn has not been looking fabulous, the flower beds full of weeds, some of the shrubs overgrown, the mulch in bad need of replacing. My husband, who was initially drawn to this house because of the whole large property thing, has washed his hands of the weeds. Too much work, not enough time. His wife (me) washed her hands of it the first year we moved into the house after stumbling upon a snake hidden in the rocks…and then another one in our garage, two more in the well that goes into the crawl space, a discarded snakeskin under a tree and in the crack of the front steps. After that, my days of picking weeds (and sitting on the front steps) while the kids played on the lawn were over. I think nature is beautiful and fascinating from afar, but I’m not into getting up close and personal with wild animals unless I’m at a zoo. Hell, I don’t even like to snorkel.
So, we have been trying to contact our landscaper to fertilize and do a spring cleanup, but he hasn’t been returning our emails and calls. So I have been stalking the crew every Wednesday morning, but the owner has been MIA. Not today, though. Today he didn’t stand a chance.
In the meantime, my husband decided to fertilize the lawn himself. Well, wouldn’t you know, who did I spy pulling out the spreader from the back of his trailer this morning? The head honcho. So, I promptly donned my flip flops and chased him down.
“What are planning on doing with the spreader?” I asked.
He said, “Weed and feed.”
I said, “Is that like fertilizing? Because when my husband didn’t hear from you, he decided to fertilize himself.”
He stared blankly at me.
Pointing to the machine, I said, “Is this the same thing?”
He said, “I don’t know? I don’t know what your husband put down?”
I said, “Scott’s?” Really, I was just guessing.
He stared blankly at me again.
I said, “He’s been trying to contact you but you haven’t gotten back to him.”
Squirming, he said, “Uh, yea. I called him once, uh, yea…”
Not able to take the awkwardness of the conversation and feeling a little sorry for him, I stepped in for the rescue and said, “I guess you’ve been busy?”
He then proceeded to tell me how many hours he’s been working, how behind he is, how he’s trying to do the best he can, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. For God’s sake, I should have just let him squirm.
I’ll spare you the rest of the boring conversation, but I walked away feeling that at least I had spoken to him and he understood what I meant (you know, you don’t need to fertilize the lawn and come back really soon to do a spring cleanup before it’s no longer spring) and that I wasn’t going to get charged for a lawn to be fertilized that had already been fertilized.
I was feeling proud of myself, that is until I looked out the window and saw my landscapers spreading fertilizer all over my lawn. What the hell? Were we not having the same conversation? What went wrong? I thought I had made myself so clear. Apparently, not.
So what now? Counseling? Divorce? I don’t know if I’m ready for that (he’s awfully cheap). Do I just take the good with the bad and hope that he doesn’t forget about me? I’ll have to think about this one. But after today, one thing’s for sure, my landscaper just doesn’t get me!