There are people who like beautifying their yards and lawns. . .

and there are people who couldn't care less about the yards.

I'm in the latter class.

My wife is in the former.

All summer long has been one endless yard project here and I'm now way beyond it.  I'm at the point where, on weekend days when I hear my wife state "can you help me in the yard to do. . ." or "come look at this in the yard" I'm actually refusing.  I don't care where the next flower goes.  I don't care about putting in a bush here or there.  I don't care.

Its a huge freaking waste of money, in my view, at some point save for one thing. For people who enjoy doing it, it isn't.  I don't enjoy it.  My wife does. But she enjoys having me participate in this.

Which to me sounds a lot like "don't go fishing today but. . ." or "don't go hunting today but . . . "

I like some flowers.  Poppies.  Okay, I like a single flower that's it.

And I like fruit trees and bushes as they have fruit.  I like pines as well, and aspens, as they remind me of the mountains which we're nearly in.  That is, they give me the illusion of living in the woods.  The rest of the stuff I don't care about.  At all.

I like gardening for stuff I can eat, as that's farming on a small scale, and I like farming.

This all probably makes me a bad person.  But I'll be glad when it snows and the flower and grass season comes to an abrupt and final end.

Which still speaks poorly of me, I am quite and sincerely certain.