The Gayanator Landscape Lady

We live on quite a traversed street. Since it is nice and quite and off the beaten path, we have a lot of people who bike, jog, or simply ramble by our house. It seems like months ago that I had a load of red gravel and two loads of top soil delivered--much to the excitement of the neighborhood. While most of the summer has been spent fixing up the back yard and cleaning out grass laden flower beds, I found that the excited fervor that whiffed through the street had turned to a perplexed, questioning look. I've even had a few people ask when I was going to get to moving that dirt and gravel. Well, the time finally came. I had used a few loads of the gravel on the back and side yards...but now it's main purpose is beginning to be felt and I do believe I have perceived a sigh permeate the neighborhood. Yes, the front yard is beginning to take shape--finally. I had hoped to have it further along than it is by now but it seems that the twitch in my nose has lost it's sparkle and everything has to be done by pure muscle, sweat, groans, and a rather stiff and sore waddle back to the house after a good five or six hours of work each day. I question myself occasionally and try to get back to the original thought that made me attempt such a lunatic adventure. It seems that there is no answer other than the compulsion disorder that I nurture occasionally. Perhaps in the long run, it will make the place look fabulous and people will suddenly screech to a crawl as they meander past the house in sheer amazement at the glorious splendor of our little hovel-ville home. My only worry is that they may stop at the inopportune moment that I throw open the door with a bounding muscle-bound daily waddle to the mailbox. Watch out Arnold! There's a new buff-one in town.