I know it's been a few weeks past Easter.
Maybe a month.
Still, I have WITNESSED the power of the Lord.
Or some minor gods and goddesses.
Here's what happened. Make of it what you will.
Easter Sunday (In Minnesota), aka: One of the first NICE days of spring. Blue skies. Warm sun. I was happy to be working in the yard.
Me (working in the yard): Oh my God, this looks terrible.
Me (thinking): Okay, calm down. You can do this.
Me: No! It's too much!
Me (thinking): Stop being so dramatic!
Me: You stupid brain! This IS dramatic.
The lawn looked like shit. Literal shit. Because we now have a dog, there was literally SHIT everywhere. Soggy and inflated and spreading E. Coli into the grass. Another fun fact: My dog loves to eat shit. Literally. Bunny turds. It's like she thinks they're M&Ms or something. After eating her fill of rabbit poop (good fertilizer BTW) she will then want to jump up and lick your face.
So after an afternoon of trying to clean up the yard, I cried. Muffled cries of defeat. I usually do them in the shower where no one can hear. True story. I think I might have whined, "I can't do this. It's too much."
Somebody apparently heard me. I hope it was Jesus.
Next afternoon, when I got home from work, I got the dog and took her out for her walk. I walked past my front yard. It looked strangely clean. And tidy.
Hmm, I thought. That's weird.
I looked at my Karl Forster grass. It had been shorn down. I knew I hadn't done that.
Strange, I thought, as my mind started to bubble.
We went for a walk.
I came back. Walked through the back yard. All the old leaves in the beds were gone. I started to feel weird. I looked around. Toys and balls were in one heap. Not scattered. The window well covers had been moved.
Holy Shit! They broke into my house!
They had sucked all the crap and deitrus out of the window wells.
WHAT THE F IS GOING ON??????
It took ten more seconds. Now my brain was at a rolling boil.
Somebody upstairs was listening.
What really happened was that a lawn clean-up crew (yes, they exist) showed up at my house instead of my neighbor who'd hired them. We have the same house numbers and very similar addresses. Think: 1234 Maple Road and 1234 Maple Lane (right close by) and you can see how the mistake could happen.
I grinned evilly to myself. Then I felt bad. The new neighbor at 1234 Maple Lane should know!
The next night I saw him walking his dog.
Like a Catholic penitent before a priest, I ran down my front steps and yelled, "Bill?"
"Um, yeah. You don't know me, but I have a weird question to ask you."
Bill stands solemnly- his funny little Shih zhu, Ben, waggles his tail.
"Um. Ah.... Did you hire some people to come clean up your yard?"
"Yeah! I'm still waiting for those guys to show up."
"Oh, well. Yeah, they showed up alright... To my yard."
I explained. Lightbulbs were going off and laughter rang out. And I realized it's good to know things. I would want to know the mystery. I NEED to know the mystery. And then I also need to share it.
It's also a good idea to be a good neighbor. When you can.
And miracles still happen.
You just have to pay attention.
P.S. Now I know why people pay good money to have spring yard clean-ups professionally done.
Because it is awesome.