The Green, Green Grass of Home

I’m obsessed with my lawn. In fact, I want my grass to be so great that Ireland will be green with envy. This is not easy with dogs involved; two big, playful collies that like nothing better than to dig holes, stampede all over the backyard, and view the entire thing as their personal restroom. But I refuse to be deterred in my quest, which has led me to some unusual tactics.

First, there’s the grass seed. Every spring I cram all the bare spots I can find in our lawn with enough grass seed to supply a football field, twice—did I mention our yard is only a tenth of an acre? Then I water it like I’m putting out the Great Chicago Fire. Even if I hear it’s going to rain I still water, because I know for certain that if don’t water, it won’t rain. After many days of this, I’ll see the first fruits of my labor appear as my lawn gives birth to a multitude of baby grass blades. From that point on, they become my little green offspring.

I also mow, a lot. Now if it were up to my husband, the lawn would get mowed every couple of weeks, and then only after I made a few choice comments about how we could make a quick buck hosting jungle safari expeditions. But I have to have the grass neat, plush, and freshly mown at all times; so I break out the lawnmower about twice a week. I also try to make those lawn-stripe-pattern-thingies that you see at golf courses and baseball fields, in the backyard. When my attempts don’t look straight (which would be most of the time) I water the crap out of the lawn so it’ll grow quicker, and then  I can take another shot at it once the grass is long enough to mow again.

Something else near and dear to my heart is sod. For those of you who have never traveled down this path, sod is exactly like a carpet of grass that you roll out onto the ground. They sell it in 6’ by 18” rolls at places like Home Depot, and it’s the greatest thing on earth if you want a perfect looking lawn. I think the “normal” usage of it consists of landscaping contractors buying it in bulk to make an insta-lawn. But I cultivate a few sections at a time in a hidden area behind our pool. Then, whenever I find a bare, yellow, or brown spot—remember we have dogs—I chisel out a piece from my sod reserve and replace the unsightly section with a thick, green clump. Yes, I’m well aware it is a bit over the edge.

But that’s nothing compared to what I do when all else fails. When all else fails, I paint the grass. Really. The stuff I use is like spray paint, and it’s sold at pet stores everywhere. The main purpose is to conceal those lovely spots your dog creates for you. I’ve also taken it a step further and spray-painted a juniper that looked half-dead. So maybe the paint wasn’t exactly the same color as the rest of the bush, but at least it didn’t look dead anymore! Although it probably made me look like I had a few screws loose, as the juniper in question was on the front lawn.

Of course if nobody thinks I’m crazy by this point, they will when they understand that my need for neat lawns extends beyond the borders of my own property. For a couple of summers when the ownership of the house next door was in limbo—and the height of the grass in its front yard began to rival that of Jack’s beanstalk—I decided to be a saint and go over to mow it myself. Okay, I wasn’t being saintly; I just couldn’t stand to see that sight from my front porch, and it was either mow it, or park a scarecrow in the middle of it.

So if you happen to ride by my house and see me out front spraying green paint all over another bush, don’t shake your head in disdain; just chalk it up to my green thumb—that I will inevitably acquire from the spray paint which doesn’t wash off no matter what I do.

Update: I wrote this back in May. Life got busier and I haven’t had time to obsess about the state of my grass like I used to. So I’ve taken a new approach, and am trying really, really hard to embrace and appreciate all those yellow, brown, and bare patches as “Creative Collie Artwork.”