This is a short spoken monologue in which a speaker describes their husband’s extensive hoarding of materials (plywood, lumber, siding, cans, and other junk) cluttering their yard, driveway, and around the garage. The speaker expresses stress about the situation, asks others not to cut the grass, and even darkly contemplates waiting for a health event (stroke, broken hip) to remove the clutter.
My husband has stuff all over on our lawn. There's plywood, lumber, siding, aluminum cans, other junk. Trash and junk. It's on all four sides of the garage. It's on the driveway. The place is a mess. But he's just hoarding. He's not ready to get rid of this stuff. So do not come and start cutting the grass. I'm hoping we can get rid of some of this junk. Yeah. Are you doing okay? Yeah. I mean, sounds stressful. That gives me an idea. Maybe by April or May, he has a stroke, breaks a hip or something happens, and then I can really get rid of all the junk. Maybe after a while he won't realize that some of the stuff is gone. But anyway, keep that in mind. Sometimes he drives the car in the backyard. The other day, he couldn't even do that because he had junk all over. It's just terrible. Well, here's the thing.
