I am way too old to be doing this stuff, but when a plan enters my head there is no stopping me.

I decided I hated the back yard. Sketchy, uneven grass, stupid plants and shrubbery that came with the place 12 years ago and a row of unsightly, tall bushes that really provided no privacy along the property line.

Now, remember, I like using the hot tub, located right off my bedroom door - all seasons of the year and I am always naked!

So, this year I planned on completely redoing the entire backyard, all grass, remove bushes, put up a high vinyl fence on top of the existing berm. Pathways to the in-ground pool would be changed and building wooden all-weather surroundings around new gardens would be achieved.

Sounds like a plan that should take a few weeks and the hiring of some help to do the (some of) the heavy lifting.

First, estimates of how much top soil were underestimated, even by the pros. We brought in an initial 16 yards of topsoil then duplicated the order a day later.

Luckily good neighbor Dick Kennedy had a large tractor to move and even out the topsoil. Handyman Eric was hired to complete the wood garden encasements. Wife Patti refused to have the five foot wide maple tree removed, so a garden housing was built around it.

After days of moving soil myself, I came to the realization that a crew needed to be brought in for more of the heavy jobs.

We also realized that another 120 bags of topsoil was needed for the garden structures, along with an equal amount of red mulch.

Yes, things were getting out of hand, but then there was the 25 lb+ bags of stone for the new pathways and, of cours, new, heavy concrete blocks to complete those tasks.

Oh, no, I have an explosion of planting, close to $700 worth,  that needed to be planted in the new soils.

This is where the butt part comes in. I wanted to do the planting myself. Being somewhat (?) old and unsteady due to the recent vertigo hospitalization, I moved slowly, but surely. Often sitting on my butt cheeks and moving along while planting the plants. Some, full sun, some partial sun, and then the shady plants for the quasi-shaded areas under the humongous tree.

Scooting on my butt seemed to be working fine...at first. Wife Patti often comments that my butt is her favorite part. I don’t necessarily know if that is a compliment, but I accept any compliment at age 72.

Then, it happened! My precious butt began to itch. "Hey, why is my butt getting itchy?, I queried my Wife Patti.

Her praise of my butt area turned to horror. "It looks like poison ivy", she quipped. Sure enough - both cheeks were covered with nasty, itchy, yucky poison ivy.

I had not seen any of the deadly weed anywhere in the areas I had scooted along, knowing full well the identity and its effects on my delicate body.

Then came the task at hand. "Pattiiii, I need you to apply all the anti-poison ivy creations know to man on my butt." There was dead silence. For someone who obviously loved my butt, now there was hesitation? So, whatever happened to that in ‘sickness and health’ phrase? After a long pause and knowing full well I could not effectively reach what I could not see, she agreed to lather on and spray the itchy, gnawing area. I have had poison ivy several times, but always in areas of reach. Walking around itching your butt is not at all attractive, especially in public. For several days the procedure was repeated until the enemy was beaten back. Ahhhhhh!

With several weeks of ongoing attacks on the back yard projects, I am on the look-out for anything remotely similar to the ivy curse.

This past weekend the grass seed was applied and the constant watering of grass and plants is moving on. 

Lesson learned...Never scoot on your butt...anywhere.