Oh HOA, Why So Sensitive?

As summer gives way to fall, our HOA is stepping up its campaign of terror. For my international readers, an HOA is a Home Owners' Association, a group in each neighborhood that residents pay dues to, and which is charged with making sure people don't put of 8-foot fences in front of their houses or keep rusty washing machines on their front porches. They also police everyone's landscaping and yard maintenance, and they send you letters and can fine you if you don't stay in line. I've written about our attempts to stay out of yard trouble before. Ha, and that post was almost exactly one year ago. A letter from the HOA really is one of the most special gifts of the season.

We received two letters last week, on the same day. Our "covenant reminders" (sounds like something God gave the Israelites) are:

• "Please edge around the bedding areas. (redefine the beds)
• "Please remove the Bermuda grass and/or weeds from the beds.
• "Please address the bare spots in the lawn at the curb and along the right side of the driveway facing the house."

I love their way with language. It's that pseudo-literate officialese that is now rampant in this here American life. At least this year they spelled "redefine" correctly. Matt and I had fun with "address the bare spots." He pointed his finger toward the ground and said, "Now, bare spot, see here sir!" You would think from reading those that our yard looks really bad. It doesn't, or I don't think so. Or at least the overall effect is fine. It is time for us to put down more pine straw (I think that's what they mean by "redefine" the beds"). But jeez, the bare spots they're talking about are a couple places alongside the driveway that get driven on sometimes. I swear, they are not noticeable from the street, unless you just have a major, unhealthy obsession with lawn.

The lily bed on the left side of the yard, near the azaleas, did need attention. So Sunday I announced that we were doing yard work. I put on gloves and went out there to pull weeds. And pull, and pull. Actually it wasn't even "weeds" plural. It was one species, maybe even one plant. The scientific name is, I believe, The Vine That Swallowed Georgia. It's not kudzu, it's something cuter and daintier than that. But it sends runners everywhere, and what looks like a few little sprouts here and there among the pine straw are all connected as part of The Vine. You can pull and pull it, and you are pulling on all vines everywhere, in a huge malevolent network. Did you see that movie The Ruins? It was like that, only without the bad college-relationship choices. There were some briars too, so I spent a while pulling The Vine and ensnaring myself in brambles. Laura walked around with hedge clippers asking me if she could clip this and that. She wasn't so into the pulling. But clipping and lopping, yes.

Hank grew worried about me. He kept coming outside and saying, "Mama, it's getting dark out here!" And it's true that I was thinking about lying down in the pinestraw and letting The Vine win.

While I did battle with The Vine, Matt took a trip to Home Depot to get some necessary supplies. Do you know how many bales of pine straw you can fit into the back of a Jetta stationwagon? Ten, if you fold the backseat down. He also bought a new rake, and some organic fertilizer (fact: organic fertilizer is poop), but alas for him, it got dark before he could really get into spreading the straw. Too bad! I know how he hated to have his raking cut short. So the bales of straw are sitting alongside the driveway. Maybe if the HOA spies come around again in the next couple of days, they'll think, "Oh, they're totally on it! No need to hassle these good people further." Sure they will.

So that's a work-in-progress. And darned if it doesn't feel like fall today. I went outside last night to go to the store, and it was positively crisp. So I bought our first pumpkin of the season at Target. When Hank saw it this morning, he said, "Mama, we need more pumpkins. We need FREE!" I assured him that there would be at least two more.

I have a crazy plan, actually, to spray paint the one I just got. Long ago I saw a thing in Martha Stewart about painting pumpkins cream or different shades of green. It was simple and it looked pretty. It also lets you make use of the cheaper scratch-and-dent pumpkins. Might be a good thing.