I really don't get people who don't want to do any physical work.
Understanding, of course, that there are folks for whom physical labor is painful, due to whatever maladies from which they suffer, I can't grasp the idea that doing work is un-enjoyable.
Spent the day in the yard, the warm Colorado sun shining on my back, a gentle 68 degree temp and a breeze making it just right. While my yard is not large by any stretch, it is... Complicated. There's a strip along the back fence that is river rock with some old plastic planters spaced throughout in a very symmetrical fashion, and a section of flat stone in the center (I suppose the prior owners used it as a sitting area.) The grass is in a rough L shape, and along either side of the house are more sections of river rock-scape.
Started by running the mower, which took perhaps 15 minutes. Trimmed the edges along the fence, as well as around the patio. Then grabbed a shovel, dug a trench along one section, and placed landscaping timbers, to better delineate where the rock-scape should end and where the grass should begin (I was getting tired of picking up rocks buried by the grass.)
Next step involved digging out those planters, backfilling the holes with dirt, and covering again with extra rocks. Now half that back fence line -- the half to the right of the flatstone, for those who care about such minutia -- is all rock, save for some scattered weeds.
Which brought me to the final chore of spraying it down with the strongest, heavy-duty, chemical laden, toxic weed killer I could find. I'll need to be mindful that the dogs don't get back in that area for a day or two, but that's easy.
At any rate, the backyard now has a fresh cut of grass, landscaping timbers along the sides of the house where the rock-scape ends, and a large section without those ugly, cheap, weed-filled planters.
I've got a bead of sweat, some stiff muscles, and dirt beneath my nails. I've also got a cold bottle of beer and a feeling of accomplishment.