Husband and I spent most of the day working along the bank of our front yard. The yard abruptly ends at the top of a fairly steep bank where nothing has succeeded to grow save scrubby undergrowth -- largely wicked honeysuckle vines and some even more wicked thorn bushes that have grown from the ground up to the heights of the trees. Many of the trees at the edge of the lawn are dead, with parts hanging over the lawn, making it precarious for Husband to mow.
So today we started into a huge project: removing all of this undergrowth. Armed with two small handsaws, Husband and I actually chopped out a lot. Pulling it out was probably the hardest part, as the vines acted like super-glue, keeping the trees in place.
Daughter kept busy running between the edge of the lawn and the trash cans, as Husband and I also unearthed a dump from the previous owners. Why do people do that?
At the end of our day, I can look out our front windows and actually see past the edge of our lawn, which is a very nice start toward ridding the claustrophobic feel that we've had until now. I think tonight we will all sleep harder than we normally do!