Fucking sidewalk-weeds. Two weeks will elapse from one weed-pulling to "OMG I have to hack through with a machete to get along the front walkway to the door." Two weeks to go from nothing, to 10-inch, ground-hugging, living tripwires on the way to the front door. I really need to introduce those fuckers to Mr. Vinegar and Ms. Epsom Salt. I hear if you sprinkle that shit on a weed, nothing will grow on that spot for 2 years.
Also, yardwork in general. It's in the 90's here and quite humid. Hubby was on the ride-on mower (only a masochist would risk heatstroke with a push-mower in a SoFla summer) and hit a root. The blade bent badly enough that now we have a plow instead of a lawnmower. Hubby's gone back to Sears to see if anything can be done. Meanwhile, the front yard is neatly mowed and swept, but the backyard has a few trails around islands of waist-high weeds, and a small area of churned-up loam.