C is for Creeping Charlie

OK, I did say I was going to do this A to Z challenge with difficult, test-worthy words, but I need to go a different direction today.  I have to say I am absolutely obsessed with the Creeping Charlie in my yard despite my determination yesterday morning to just let it be.  Obsession took over by noon. 

Luckily it was an absolutely perfect spring day and a lovely day to sit on the grass and pull the annoying vines out of my yard.  My toddler helped.  I am sure we were a sight sitting in our front yard diligently hand-weeding the grass. 
My toddler got out his Go Diego Go hand tool - the one that looks like a little shovel whose name I have completely forgotten - trowel maybe?  He used his little tool to dig in the raw dirt where the Creeping Charlie used to be.  In other words, the vines completely crowded out the grass to the point there was none.  Dirt patches were everywhere the vines used to be.   

This was not good.  Not good at all.  Not what I had planned.

I didn't get far creating bare spots in my lawn before I decided to stop and work on the back yard instead.  We digged weeds in the playground area and garden bed (no Creeping Charlie there - just isolated, normal weeds).  I cut branches into small pieces, bagged them, and cleaned up the scattered remains of leaves from last year.  I cut down the old plants to make room for the new.

I worked outside for about six hours.  In that six hours, two wonderful things happened.  The first is that I realized I felt completely normal in my backyard.  I didn't need to walk on a cane since the ground is soft.  I didn't have to explain or apologize or feel awkward.  I felt this in the first few minutes and was very happy. 

I also noticed that even after several hours, my foot didn't bother me at all.  I have morton's neuroma in my right foot - a nerve enlargement.  The treatments didn't work, and I can't have the surgery.  This time last year and even last fall, the act of walking around my yard in my orthopedic, special ordered, really quite expensive sandals definitely bothered me.  It wasn't as bad as walking on cement, but I remember I couldn't handle it for more than 30 minutes or so without sitting down.

Six hours on my feet (minus that hour sitting in the grass), and I was just fine.  This is really quite a miracle - this means my foot is getting better.  I cannot express my happiness and optimism.  I have my obsession over the Creeping Charlie to thank.  Otherwise, I might not have gone outside yesterday.