Zen and the art of lawn maintenance
by Jennifer Rudsit

I grew up in Indiana. Let me rephrase that...I grew up in a cornfield. We had a yard that was over an acre and had not a single tree on it! I never had to rake leaves or pull weeds, and mowing the lawn was something Dad did with a tractor.

I am now 31, a single mom, and a new homeowner. When I lived in my first apartment in MA, I quickly found the "shortcut" to the mall. Then came the big decision to buy: I chose to purchase my first home and I soon became familiar with the "shortcut" to Home Depot! I managed to avoid the yard for a few weeks until the cat stepped into the grass and disappeared. So I made my way to Home Depot and purchased a lawn mower, and yes, I had to ask how to make it "go." Along with this I purchased hedge trimmers and shears. My yard was going to look like the cover of "House Beautiful."

Sunday morning I got up bright and early, sprayed myself down with bug spray, and slipped my MP3 player into my ears. I mowed the lawn to Aerosmith, raked and rocked out to Nickelback, and pulled weeds to Kelly Clarkson. I was having a zen moment. The next day I started a graduate class in Eastern Philosophy. As we discussed the Path to Enlightenment, I thought of my beautiful yard at home. And then I scratched my arms where the mosquitoes had bitten.

But the next day the bites were even worse. And the following day they were red blisters that had spread to my legs. I went to a drugstore and purchased every cream, lotion, spray, and soap I could find to make the itching go away. Nothing worked. I went to the doctor, who prescribed steroids.

Four weeks and three doses of steroids later, I am typing this essay with one hand and scratching the ever-present poison ivy with the other. So much for that zen feeling. But don't worry. I plan to get even with Mr. Poison Ivy. This afternoon I took the shortcut to Home Depot and found the Round-Up aisle!