October 10, 2026
One of the blanket answers that retired people usually throw out when they’re asked how they are going to spend their retirement is simply, “I’ll have time to work in my yard! Oh happy day!” Okay, let’s be serious here. Nobody likes yardwork. Especially in the Texas heat! That’s why so many people hire professionals to do it for them. Unless someone lives in a land where the weather is always perfect, or they live next to a college sorority house where the members spend the afternoons frolicking around in their yard wearing bikinis, most people would rather stay inside. However, I’m often faced with the choice of going to the gym and lifting weights or tool around in my yard a bit while calling it a work out. That’s when yardwork tends to be a solid choice.
My biggest issue with doing yard work at my house is the fact that regardless where I go in my yard, I’m on full display. My house sits on a corner acre that is visible from the road at every conceivable angle. If I’m mowing my lawn everyone who drives by can see what I’m doing, but when I’m doing something a bit more involved, I can nearly feel the thoughts of those driving past me. “Good gosh! What is he doing now?” or “Why is he doing that?” and the most popular “Should he be doing that?” Indeed, I live in a constant state of social paranoia every time I step outside to take on a yard task.
A couple of years ago some company laid a line along the edge of the road that runs in front of my house. I don’t know if it was the cable company, electric company, or just a bunch of guys who had nothing better to do. The guys who were digging the ditch weren’t speaking English, and I personally didn’t care enough to ask. What I did care about though was all the gravel and rock mess they left behind when they filled up their ditch. I’m sure after a decade or two the gravel would have been pressed into the ground. However, I was getting a little tired of setting off a cluster bomb of white rocks every time I ran my mower over the front edge of my yard. So with the Texas temperature finally settling into the low 90’s and high 80’s, I decided to arm myself with my rake, hoe, and shovel and do something about it!
So for the entire afternoon I was out there raking the rocks off the side of the road and shoveling them into my wheelbarrow. The problem with working that close to the road isn’t the fear that I might get run over, but it’s the overbearing feeling that I need to wave at everyone who drives by. I don’t even know these people, but every time a car, pickup truck, school bus, or Amazon truck drove by I felt like I had to stop what I was doing and dish out a friendly wave, because that’s just what we do in the country.
Despite all my waving I was starting to rake up quite the immense collection of loose gravel from the side of the road, and this led to my yardwork paranoia. With every passing automobile my mind started wondering what all my neighbors were thinking. Were they under the belief that I was stealing gravel from the roadside? Were they thinking, “He’s destroying the road!” Or are they thinking, “Well, that gravel doesn’t belong to him, even if it is in his yard. There’s a telephone pole in his yard. Is he going to claim that as well?” As every car drove past me, I nearly expected them to stop by with an inquiring, nosey attitude of, “What are you doing? Are you sure you should be doing this? Under whose authority are you allowed to rake the loose gravel from the road.” The more I raked and shovel the more paranoid I got. Every time a white pickup truck drove by me I was just assuming that it was some fleet vehicle from the county commissioner or highway department coming to arrest me for raking the loose gravel from the front of my yard. I nearly felt the need to create a sign that made the statement, “I’m merely getting rid of this rock so I won’t send it flying across the neighborhood every time I hit it with my lawnmower and thus bringing havoc to the entire neighborhood!”
After a while a lady did stop by, but she wasn’t asking what I was doing or if should I be doing it. Instead, she wanted to know what I was going to do with all the gravel I was raking up because she wanted it. Indeed, I had accumulated five or six wheelbarrows full of the stuff, and she claimed that her yard had a hole that needed to be filled. Well, I had my own hole to fill. On the other side of my house is another ditch that contains a big hole. I don’t know where this hole came from because it wasn’t there when I bought the house. However, after the county roadcrew got done working on the intersection where my house stands, I was left with this huge hole in my ditch. Why? I don’t have a clue, but I’ve been tossing rocks in it for the last ten years. Now I had tons of rocks. Okay, maybe not tons, but several hundred pounds at least!
As I dumped all the gravel into this hole in my ditch, I was now faced with even more yardwork paranoia. Should I be filling up this hole? After all, the county guys did leave it, or did they? Is it going to restrict the water flow? Is it going to flood the neighborhood? Am I going to be featured on the local news as the man who brought death and destruction to the entire county because I merely filled up a hole in my ditch? Will the story tell how some crazed, recently retired eccentric resident scraped a bunch of loose gravel from the side of the road and wreaked havoc on all of North Texas! Will the headlines read, “Was that gravel really his to begin with? Was the hole in the ditch really his to begin with?”
Okay, I might be going a bit over the top with all this paranoia, but it does concern me a bit. This all originated from the time I had a truck load of top soil brought in to spread around my backyard because the area tends to turn into a low-lying marshland during a rain. While I was spreading the dirt around my backyard my next-door neighbor stopped by to voice his concern regarding how all of this added dirt might screw up the waterflow through my backyard, thus creating an issue for the whole neighborhood. I was just tired of having a freaking swamp in my back yard. He suggested a sump pump. And that’s why the simple act of filling up a hole concerns me a bit.
While coming to the end of my raking job I suddenly fell into panic mode when I neared the property line. I’m not sure where my property ends and my neighbor’s land begins, but I was fearing that I might be raking the gravel from a few inches of my neighbor’s yard. I don’t have a clue what the dude’s name is, and the only interactions I’ve ever had with the guy have been a few subtle waves while we’re out mowing our lawns. The mail carrier once delivered his water bill to my mailbox, and being a thoughtful neighbor I decided to deliver it to him personally. However, once I approached his front door, I saw a large decorative sign that carried the statement, “Go away! I don’t have time for your bullshit!” Not feeling a warm, fuzzy greeting here, I made a hasty retreat and stuck the rogue bill in his mailbox, which might be illegal now that I think about it.
So this is why I hate yardwork. It’s not the actual work part of it that wears me out, but the way my mind roams with every conceivable thought, I’m usually worn out within the hour! I have to wonder if there is a support group for paranoia I could join? Paranoia anonymous perhaps? Oh well, I think my yard looks better without all the loose rocks.
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