Ever watch a garden come to life early in the spring? Overnight an explosion of green, and winter's barren stillness so serene, almost lifeless, is lost, only a memory. Everything plant is competing for the same piece of real estate, tardiness smothered by aggression, good guys challenged by bad guys. Exotic grass - the Cosa Nostra of all things green - muscles its way into every part of the yard until its non-subtle nature rats it out, and we are resigned to packing the Roundup to give the legit guys a fighting chance. It's a dog eat dog world out there. Lawn mower and weed whacker in action, yard be tame. Lawn mower and weed whacker on vacation, yard be evil. This year my lovely piece of real estate is so totally out of control...a run-for-your-life massive mess of mangled jungle. Doc swears he has only my best interests at heart, but it's clearly quite evident, he has his own gardener or a yard of cement. !No yard work! he says...no yard work I promise...resigning myself to implementing his orders 100%. Those pesty weeds full of indignation, thumb their noses at my consternation, and make my yard their last destination. !!Can't stand it!! I cry, fist shaking at sky, must bandage eyes tight, together tape legs, cuff hands to the chair, and check out of my head...cause I said what I meant and I meant what I said, I'm sticking to doc's orders 100%. Never till now, in all of my years, has the prospect of next winter made me smile ear to ear.