Where Have All the Weeds Gone?

The smell of burning rope is growing ever more distant.  It's true.  In a few short hourss one of my favorite television shows, Weeds, will toke its last.  

I know, the last couple of seasons have been a little dodgy.  But I watched faithfully nonetheless.

I enjoy the twisted dark humor of it all.  And yes, I know this isn't a pressing issue, but in a sea of bad television, where original, creative writing has gone the way of the dinosaur in favor of training a camera on a bunch of crazy people to see what they'll do, I prefer the old fashioned mode, where the crazy people are all scripted.

Nancy Botwin is a TV character I identify with.  True, I don't sell pot, I don't neglect my kids, I don't fornicate with every male I come into contact with, I didn't marry a drug trafficking king pin... 

Wait a minute...how exactly do I identify with Nancy Botwin?  

Maybe it's the "stuck in the 'burbs" thing.  Maybe it's that I fancy myself a rather strong and independent type.  Perhaps I like to think that under tough circumstances, I too, could call the shots in a coy and manipulative manner using my unbridled sexuality.  

Hey Ho, that's a bold statement.  

Maybe it's that, although I don't sell pot, I do have a couple of spare Lorazepam laying around if you're feeling a little anxious. 

I guess I just like that the woman has balls the size of a Buick.  

I loved the characters; Celia, that nut bag - I miss her.  The no nonsense Heylia. Doug.  Is he really going to start a religion? Did he really take a shit on the neighbor's doormat?  Ya gotta love Doug.  Lupita!  I loved Lupita.  What a pistol.  Shane and Silas.  What's gonna happen to those two?  Andy.  I really want to see him finally get together with Nancy.  I don't know why.  I just do.  And not for thirty seconds, like last week.  

Today I spent the afternoon out pulling weeds in the yard.  Yes, I'm going to shamelessly attempt to tie the two together.  Don't interrupt me with your questions whilst I am in the throes of philosophical genius.  Actually, I have no idea where I'm going with this and I'm going to see where it all takes me and if I can pull it off well then, blue ribbon for me. 

Not afraid of a little hard work - also known as "I'd rather be shopping."

But since I'd put off the yard work for so long due to heat, allergies and overall laziness, The Hubby and I decided to tackle it today.  Dandelions, clumps of crab grass in the driveway, piles of dead stuff I'd pulled while waiting for the school bus and left there.  Spare pieces of roofing.  Old railing that had been thrown there awaiting a more permanent solution.  Last year's moldy inflatable pool.  Extra decking that is in some stage decay. Honestly, the place was beginning to look like Sanford and Son, except the pickup truck isn't on cement blocks. 

Front yard, side yard, back yard. All of it an overgrown mess.  The beginnings of fall leaves still unswept.  Even the Pug Zen Garden was in kind of a bad way.  Leaves I'd raked up a week ago containing petrified poo had to be shoveled up and wheelbarrowed away; banished to some nether region of the property where it could be considered "fertilizer".  

Oh yeah, and that situation with the green pool had to be dealt with.

Stop me if I'm making myself and my family sound like The Beverly Hillbillies on crack.  Oh, really? 
Too late?  

I hunkered down to the task, determined to make a dent, but what began as feelings of deep satisfaction and accomplishment at the sight of freshly unearthed....um...earth...quickly gave way to overwhelming hopelessness and despair.  There is SO MUCH.  I mean, good, Goddess, I've only hit a quarter of what needs to be done, if that, and I'm covered in mosquito bites, an allergic rash and it's hot, I'm sneezing, there are bugs....Dammit!  I'm a city girl.  Why am I doing this?  I don't want to be out here in the ickiness of nature, pulling weeds for gawdssake!  If God intended me to be doing this, He wouldn't have created landscapers and lawn guys.  New York is where I want to stay....I get allergic smelling hay!  

That and I'm a great big baby.  

But I guess that was when I realized that in some small way, I do identify with our gal Nancy because I'd rather take the easy way out than work hard to get myself out of a tough spot.  

That sounds like it's a bad thing.  

All this, and I'm cleaning my bathroom bowl!
See what I did there? Bowl? Heh heh.

Well, before you get all Judge Judy on me, I'll have you know that 458 mosquito bites, a heat rash and a swollen throat later, I've made a sizable dent in the weeding.  I did it.  And I'll do more tomorrow.  Because there's so freaking much  of it.  Waaahhhh.....

Work is haaaarrrrdddd. 

I'll miss you Nancy.  And your whole band of lovable miscreant family and friends.  I'll miss that cloud that used to hang over me like an old friend.  There'll be nothing to roll...out of bed for in the morning.  Your absence is already hitting me like a bong on the head.  I wish you didn't have to leaf.  It burns...it really does.  Was it Jenji Kohan, the producers and cast of Weeds who decided to call it quits?  Did Showtime cancel it, or was it a joint decision? It all sounds like a lotta hookah to me.  I wish it made an ounce of sense.  I just have to let it out though.  Can't hold it in any longer.  I sound like such a dope.  And I suppose the grass is always greener...it's just that...holy smokes, what a drag...

Look, I've already toke up enough of your time. 

So.  Who needs a dime bag? 

Hasta la vista gang...