In which our hero battles the Green Monster

The ceasefire brokered by another Canadian winter has ended, as it does every year, with the sprunging of spring and the rizzing of weeds. Yes, my dears, weeds not grass.
Amidst the fruitless application of grass seeds mixed with fresh topsoil and anti-weed spray is the watering. The peculiar shape and size of the front yard means that all the different shapes and types of sprinklers I have tried mostly water the driveway or the neighbours lawn. And when setting the sprinkler on the lawn for the first time this season I forgot about it for hours, which caused a spectacularly flooded lawn; to the point where a stream ran down the street.
And of course the even more peculiar back yard poses it’s own challenges. The neighbour at the back has huge trees in a small yard that mostly cover my only slightly larger yard. A big raised deck and the house itself shadow the rest of the yard and the slope differential between the front and back yards means a 160 pound weakling like me with next to no upper body strength is bound to hate mowing the sides of the house.
I’m inclined to believe the previous owner of this house had a good idea for once. He was growing big rocks in the bed that ran the width of the back fence! Of course, as a grandson of a farmer, I knew better. I removed the rocks and put down sod.
And what I have learnt is this, my grandpappy, who was a schoolmaster and farmer, may have made a living out of commercially growing mustard and wheat but, somewhere, somehow the gene lines got messed up and heredity got confused so here’s a ditty that sums it up.
Spring has sprung, the weeds have riz
Should I bother with any of this biz
of sowing and weeding
and watering and seeding
or leave it to it’s own devices…
(admit it – you were wracking your brains for a word that ended in “iz”, weren’t you?)