A woman and her new hoe. That’s me. Yes, a hoe. Not just any hoe, however. A Husky 51″ fiberglass-handled garden hoe with a 4.5-star rating and 933 reviews on the Home Depot site. And no, I didn’t order it online. Ray and I went to Home Depot in Oxnard to purchase said hoe, along with a few other things we needed.

When I asked the Home Depot fellow where I could find hoes, he said, “Hose?”

I shook my head. “No, a hoe.”

He grinned. “Who you calling a hoe?” Then he directed me to Aisle 54.

We both left chuckling.

What is this obsession with hoes?

Well, first off, it’s not new. I’ve been wanting a new hoe for the longest time. Our old one is rusted, and the handle barely stays on. When you live in an orange grove where weeds like to pop up through the mulch, a girl needs a hoe. Period.

This story gets worse, or sadder, or just plain silly.

First, finally getting this new hoe was the equivalent of finding the perfect dress. I was elated. Delighted. Perhaps bordering on joyous.

Yes, buying a hoe did this to me.

And second, when we stopped to eat at Hook Burger (which has exceptional turkey burgers, by the way), I had a serious concern that someone might reach into the back of our son-in-law’s pickup truck and steal my new hoe. I mean, who wouldn’t? It was a $29 hoe, for God’s sake. I admitted to Ray that I might be tempted myself if I saw that hoe in the back of someone else’s pickup truck.

So, there we have it. What nurtured me today, June 10, 2026? Purchasing a long-awaited garden hoe so that I can tackle the tough weeds that have seriously taken root. I don’t need a hoe for the little newcomers, but those weeds down in the dirt, holding on for dear life, are about to have a serious comeuppance. And I do mean that quite literally.

Sadly, I had students this afternoon and only got a couple of good whacks in before I had to leave.

But tomorrow morning, here I come.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to sleep tonight. The excitement might be too much.

I only wish I was kidding. Well, actually, I don’t wish that at all. I’m seriously, sincerely, and wholeheartedly in love with my new hoe.

Think what you might, but I have moved into the next phase of orange grove life. This one apparently involves becoming positively ecstatic over a new garden tool.

I’m pretty sure Buddhists would describe this as being one step from Nirvana.

I say amen to that and add an enthusiastic hallelujah.

Here is a photo of my new garden instrument, patiently awaiting a morning of doing just what it was designed to do.

Weeds beware. My new hoe and I will be coming for you in the morning.