Trying to grow grass.

We don't enjoy it as much as we used to, but the kids love it. And all of our neighbors are growing it. When we bought our first house, we claimed to love the outdoors and looked forward to caring for our new, enormous yard, but it turns out we just like the outdoors as a backdrop. Gin tonics on the lawn and that sort of thing, as long as the mosquitos aren't biting. We've killed more grass than Cheech and Chong.

It seems like all of our neighbors are good at the whole grass thing. We've tried outsourcing it, but we're not rich. Recently, tired of the small bald patches complete lack of lawn cover, we got an estimate from some professionals. They were maybe a bit too professional. I could have bought a decent car with what they charged. So I called my Dad and got a recommendation from him. I don't know why I didn't do that to begin with; my husband calls Dad "Mr. Columbia" and I think it fits. So, Dad's guy agreed to re-sod the lawn and fix the existing sprinkler system for the price of a 1993 Buick LeSabre (still a fine car, incidentally, but nothing flashy). So far, so good. The sod is in and the pro scheduled the sprinklers for us, so we haven't managed to mess it up (yet).

Everyone on our street has beautiful grass and I'm starting to suspect it's not by chance, because I see them out in their yards, doing very complicated looking stuff, like weeding and watering. The real reason we re-planted our lawn was because I couldn't take the pitying looks anymore. And apparently, people did notice the sorry state of our lawn, because I've gotten emails from as far as two blocks away complimenting the new look.

Soon, the lawn will be tested. According to the sod guy, he planted something that's both shade and traffic tolerant. I've already forgotten the name, because I'm just not a nature person. The lawn will be used for soccer, biking, running and gin tonic drinking. And we'll have to make sure the sprinklers aren't scheduled to go off during happy hour when we want to play soccer with our darling children. We'll see how that goes.

Speaking of playing with children, sometimes I think my neighbor is taunting us by playing baseball with his children in his obscenely grass-covered front yard. It seems like they're always out there when I'm leaving or coming home. Do you think they're trying to tell me something? Yes, I do think everything is about me.

Our neighbor on the other side suggested we cut down all of our beautiful old trees to let the grass get more sun. We couldn't possibly do that, such environmentalists are we. Never mind all the water we're using to nurture what I pessimistically believe will be a short-lived lawn. Maybe that's the problem. I need to believe in the lawn. Maybe I should talk to it, or sing to it. Then the neighbors might not mind when it died.

Namasté, y'all!