It's Not Easy Getting Green

Spring is here and with it the problem that will vex me until the leaves fall from the trees, lawn care. Until I bought this house, I never really cared about my lawn. If it was green, I didn't really worry about the color source. My "lawn" could have been filled with weeds, ivy or lizards, as long as when I looked out the window I thought I was in Ireland. I can't have that kind of laiz e faire attitude anymore. How good your lawn looks in this neighborhood is the equivalent of guys standing in their driveways and hanging pork to measure their manhood. Not that I'm giving in to peer pressure or anything. "Wife" has laid down the law too. "I don't want our house to be the only one with a brown yard" she warned me before turning her back on me in a move that left no doubt to it's meaning. I for one would welcome a dirt yard. People would think I was nuts and stay away.

Again this year I debated getting a service to take care of my lawn fertilization needs. That seems like cheating. Sure, I know almost nothing about chemicals, soil acidity or grow rates of grasses, but that's what the Internet is for. Left to my own devices, there's a chance I'd be mixing chemicals in the yard only to end up having my last vision be that of a mushroom cloud over my patio. I started doing a little research to figure out how to help my grass look it's best, and I again came to the realization that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. First I learned that I should fertilize four times a year. That seemed simple enough, but then I learned you need four different fertilizers, spread at specific times. This seems like a pain in the ass to be honest with you. Then I remembered "Wife's" threat and I got to work.

It was supposed to rain this afternoon, so I had to get my first application (that's what fertilizer experts call it) down this morning since I was already down to the wire as far as the correct schedule went. Have you ever read a bag of fertilizer? It's enough to make you dial 9-1 and keep the phone handy. How can something that makes it possible for me to frolic on a carpet- soft lawn be so deadly. Apparently I was supposed to get all John Travolta and apply this stuff in a bubble. You're not supposed to have any contact with it, get it on your clothes, let your dogs even look at it or get it on any other living vegetation. I should have known from it's Agent Orange color that I was dealing with stuff meant for an episode of "24". I raced to apply my chemical killer before the rain started. Thankfully I was successful. I don't want to think about what would have happened if rain had hit a large quantity of this stuff.

After I was done I took a serious shower, kind of like Meryl Streep in "Silkwood" or the victim of an attack. I think I got all traces of the fertilizer off me, but I'll let you know if I grow another head. I've been standing at the window watching my grass, hoping to see some change, but so far, nothing. I hope the green comes back soon. "Wife" is waiting and my neighbors are reaching for their zippers. Later...Brian