Through Pride of Ownership, Valuable Life Lessons Are Learned
By Nancy Massey
My very first memory of yard work is of crawling on my hands and knees with a pair of yard scissors in hand, cutting the grass that grew along the chain link fence in my backyard. This was well before the prized invention of motorized trimmers, or least one owned by my father. Afterwards, and I’m sure my work was on par with any 4th grade effort, I looked back with pride at what I considered to be a job well done. Until my dad saw it, and then I enjoyed lap two.
When I was a kid weekends were devoted to yard work. Not just at my house, but at every home on Glyndon Street where I spent my youth catching fire flies and tadpoles, popping tar bubbles in the street, drinking from the hose, and where I learned to roller skate on uneven macadam sidewalks littered with acorns. Saturday morning music was the roar of mowers and hammers blended with kids laughing and parents hollering. Neighbors helped one another; we built each other’s decks, cut new beds, and hung holiday lights in unison. My dad explicitly taught his children the proper way to plant a tree, my mom taught us how to pop dandelions, and my grandfather taught me how to cut grass in straight lines, and then how to properly clean the mower before putting it away. My grandfather is long gone, but I can still hear the oil can pop as he lubed the dark crevices of the mower.
As an adult, I remember the thrill of planting our first gardens in our newlywed house, a 1940s brick cape. We cut our teeth on that yard, learning what poison ivy looks and feels like, remembering not to place pumpkins in the compost bin, and the importance of calling the electric company before digging. My husband and I often worked well into the dark of night, and no beer has tasted better since those we drank while tired and dirty, surveying our kingdom.
Many houses and innumerable plants, snakes, and bugs later, I still find great peace digging in the dirt. None of our homes has been palatial, but all have been tidy and welcoming. Now, our daughter is learning that you have to pick up the sticks and pine cones prior to mowing, and I secretly smile as she moans through her second pass.
The leaves are falling. It’s time to rake the neighbor’s yard.
Nancy Massey is a Nest Agent and Accredited Buyer Representative in the New River Valley. Real estate has always been her passion; it was her hobby long before she became a Realtor in 2006. Her primary focus is to ensure excellent client care through clear communications, thorough education, and expert negotiations.