Every now and then, when I’m wandering around my yard thinking that it’s a disgusting pit, I wish I lived in an apartment or townhouse. Someplace where I could have some flower pots, a birdfeeder, a patio with a picnic table for evening meals, comfortable chairs to lounge in and an umbrella to keep the sun out of my eyes. All the other work would be taken care of by ‘someone else’. I realize I would have to pay dues to have the work done, but the older I get, I’m thinking that wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Or if not a townhouse, a house with a postage size yard. Like the ones in the Camden neighborhood. Those are the old homes with all the character that I love, with tiny little yards. Some people have their entire backyard without grass. Lots of rocks, a pond and waterfall in the corner, paths to wander on and benches to sit on and admire the landscape. That wouldn’t be so totally overwhelming like my yard.
With my fibromyalgia, I have days that I have to push myself to move from room to room. If there is something that I really need to do, I’ll try and do it, but it will take most of the day. I will have NO energy whatsoever. Then without doing anything special, the next day I will be full of energy and get tons done. This does not work well with a big yard and lots to take care of.
Maybe we’ll just have to hire someone to help out one of these days.