Battle of McCallen Estates

Our fine, 4.5-acre estate is under attack.

Battle lines have been drawn, and we are under enemy fire constantly. Trenches have been dug in our front "nine" (aka, the front yard), and the enemy has constructed an elaborate tunnel system for sneak attacks and to worm their way closer toward our brick fortress. Ammunition is mounded in great piles, and our driveway is under siege; we wonder often if heavy rains will wash it out completely. Fallen soldiers are stacking 10 high, and a thick, neon green covering is starting to choke the life of anything that remains.

What, say you, dares to battle with the McCallens? Moles. Leaves. Fallen trees & limbs. Moss. They are kicking our butt.

When we moved into our little brick house two years ago, our front yard/forest was a little messy, and the grass definitely needed a good mowing, but it was green & relatively smooth. A decent, healthy yard. And our driveway—for something in the country—was rather charming, blanketed by beige, white and sepia river rocks, at least two inches deep.

Where is the grass? Where are the rocks? Dying and gone.

The grass has fallen victim to critters: moles. I have never in my life seen such damage from a family (army?) of moles... the tunnels are everywhere! At the end of these tunnels are holes—hundreds of them. To top it off, there are perfectly pointed dirt mounds that resemble tiny volcanoes, earth flowing down the sides like molten lava.

And where there are moles, there is also moss. Or maybe it's crabgrass...I'm no lawn expert. Regardless, it's a horrible lime green color, and it kills whatever bright, beautiful, lush green grass that surrounds it.

Where there are not moles and moss, there are leaves. We have stockpiled two seasons of leaves from our dozens of trees. Last year, we mowed and mowed and mowed them, until they were chopped to tiny bits. These bits settled down into our yard, where I thought they would be harmless. Nope. This year, we didn't even get to the chopping. Autumn is rather inconveniently timed during hunting season—when my hubbie cannot be bothered to do lawn work—and (last year) when Noah was still on a nursing rampage. Since I hardly left our house until December, the leaves remained. Where they remained are now slimy, smelly, absolutely icky dead spots of former lawn. How nice.

And let's not forget the "sticks" in our yard. This was a chore I loathed as a kid. My dad regularly tortured me and my siblings with picking up sticks in our 1-acre yard, and we only had 10 or 15 trees to contend with. As an adult, I do not enjoy picking up sticks anymore than I did when I was 10, and now I have 10 times the number of trees with which to contend. And for some reason, our trees feel the need to spew branches, half-trees, whole trees, you name it. Sometimes limbs fall off and stick straight up in the ground, so that when we wake up the next morning, it appears a new, medium tree has grown up overnight!

Our burn pile in the front yard is ridiculous. It could easily be a satellite site for an A&M football bonfire (have you ever read about those mammoth events?!). David and I decided to attempt to burn it down a little last weekend, and we nearly set our entire front yard/forest on fire. So now we have a partially charred, towering mountain of mini trees in our front yard to be burned. Hot dog, anyone?

Let's not forget the driveway. Between the weeds that have pushed up through the rocks, the ruts that have developed like an African safari path, and the mini lakes that appear each time it rains, we've officially developed a W.T. entrance to our estate. Ugh.

So what I'm really saying here is, anyone know a good lawn care company? I think we officially need professional help. Don't you just love home ownership?!!