Because Mike and I are classy people, our backyard is a big pile of gravel and a shed, and we use this area for our dog, Abby, to go to the bathroom.
In the beginning of Spring, I noticed that our pile of gravel was sprouting some weeds. I have an aversion to gardening because 1) bugs, 2) dirt, and 3) feminism*. So I figured I'd leave the little sprouts alone, and they would soon be killed off by living in gravel, getting peed on, or the onset of winter.( Then this happened. )
My mother has informed me that most of that is rhubarb. The thing that troubles me is that this rhubarb has grown to Valerie-size proportions with no care, no actual dirt, and while covered in dog pee. Which makes me wonder if they are even really plants at all.
I wanted to post that here so you can laugh, and so that I have "before" pictures, because I'm going to clean it up, bugs, dirt, and feminism* be damned. I will either do it tomorrow or Wednesday. If I don't return, avenge my death.
* While I realize that gardening in and of itself is not intrinsically anti-feminist, it is a traditional woman's role, and my personal brand of feminism includes not falling into traditional women's roles when/if I can help it. Also, Mike already mows the front lawn, so he can do the rest of the stuff while he's out there. Also, I don't give a crap about flowers, except for maybe hyacinths, but just because Oscar Wilde used them as a metaphor for penis in a letter once.