Pulling Ivy

So the Mormon missionaries came to my house about a week ago, as they usually do once a month. I grew up in the church and they like to check in on me. It's always the same conversation, and the missionaries always end it with, "Is there anything we can do for you?" I was in a flippant mood and said, "No, unless you feel like cutting back blackberry bushes and ivy!" To my immense surprise, the one missionary took me seriously, "Sure," he said, "I'm from North Carolina, and I'm used to dealing with wild plants!" I still thought he was joking, especially since his companion was turning a strange shade of grey, but he said he'd call me and set up a time to do yard work.

And he did. They came over yesterday morning and pulled ivy from around the house, a job I haven't been able to do for awhile. It took the two guys and myself two hours, but we got the worst of it away from the sides of the house and into eight yard waste bags for removal (hopefully) tomorrow by the city yard waste truck. It was a job that would have taken me at least two weeks to do alone, if I was even able to manage it.

What's even more incredible is that the NC missionary wasn't quite satisfied. As they were leaving he told me they would call again and see if they couldn't get a few other missionaries in the district over, and tackle the mountain of bushes in the back yard.