It's finally spring and things are turning green. Ugh. I'll have to mow the lawn, which I can handle. I have a rider, after all. But I'll need to trim the weeds, and therein lies the problem.
When I was weed-eating for the final time last year, hands reached out from the doughy ground and grabbed my ankles. I kicked and stomped on them, but they wouldn't give up. Finally, they clutched the weed-eater. I revved on the gas and yanked on it, which encouraged more hands, pulling on the tool, pulling on my legs, until I fell down and let go.
The weed-eater was gone.
I've been thinking about it all winter. I could buy another, but that would be accepting defeat. Plus, what if they steal that from me, as well? No, I'll have nothing of it. After the first spring mowing, they'll be stirred up again. I've got a shovel with a newly-sharpened spade, and by golly, I will get back my property!