When we moved into our house 12 years ago, about the only things growing in the backyard were a great crop of creeping Charlie and clover with a few dozen dandelions sprinkled in for good measure. There were no intentional plants -- only those that were hearty enough to survive in a mostly shaded over, postage-stamp lot with slightly prehistoric-looking, gigantic flying bugs everywhere.

It was a hostile environment to man, beast or delicate annual, and for years, I kept my distance.

My friends and I, for the most part, were all new parents and we didn't have the time or the money for silly things like landscaping.

Fast forward a few years and I had more time, a little more money, but still not much energy for gardening. I wanted a nice looking yard, but not the work that came with it. One inspired summer a few years ago I decided it was time to do something about that mess out back. Over two whirlwind weekends, we ripped up one side of the yard, planted a lilac bush and bunches of beautiful perennials and trimmed the whole thing with big rocks. A few bushels of mulch completed the picture and we had arrived in lush green Suburbia.

Done! The perfect solution -- low maintenance plants all living together in a meandering space that ran the length of the yard.

I don't know what it is about this summer, if it was the insane amount of rain in June or what, but most of my perennials seem to have disappeared (melted?) and in their place is a bumper crop of nasty brown mushrooms, weeds with an almost trunk-like stem that won't come out of the ground and some other assorted uglies with thorns, thistles and rubbery leaves. Some with all three at once. Ick.

This weekend seemed like a good time to get in there and dig out from whatever's come to pass. After clearing away buckets full of this yuck, it appears there's little left of my good intentions from a few years back. The lilac bush survived, but all else appears to be lost. I now have a nice mud bed with some mulch on it, trimmed in rock.

My day of work yielded lots of yard waste and a handful of mosquito bites, all centered around my ankles. I haven't been this swollen since week 35 of my second pregnancy, when I needed a tablespoon at my heels to help ease my feet into my shoes in the mornings. 

Now the dilemma -- rebuild, or let it go back to the way it was?

I hear they're doing some mighty nice things with concrete these days.