When I was little, I remember first noticing there was something about men and lawns. I am not sure if it stems from "a man's home is his castle," sort of thing. Maybe it just came from the pride of owning your own piece of land and wanting your plot to be everything you hoped life would be.
When it came time to put in a new lawn at our house it took weeks to prepare the soil. New sprinklers, fertilizer and special seeds were ordered. A little fence made from garden stakes and butchers twine was put up to remind the dimwitted to stay off the sprouting grass. My father even made a flat-bottomed wooden contraption he could drag across the dirt to level it out. It was my job, at age six, to sit in it for extra weight and pick up all of the rocks and pebbles in my reach as I was dragged back and forth.
The lawn care continued as long as I can remember. It eventually developed into a bit of an obsession- think
Hank Hill but worse, much worse. The lawn was to be mowed once a week in a specific direction. First around the parameter clockwise. Then across the center on a diagonal. The following week was in the opposite direction. This, I was told, was to insure the grass would grow upright. I ask you, have you ever driven by a lawn and thought to yourself, "Well, their grass isn't straight enough! They must not be rotating their mowing!"? Don't worry, most sane people haven't either.
It was not uncommon for uncles and neighbors to chat with my father about lawn care and landscaping. A little gossip could get thrown in just like a hearty helping of fertilizer. Including the different types of weeds and invasive grasses that so and so had in there mismanaged lawns. "Did you see the bungalow down the way? They seeded with rye to hide the dead Bermuda." Yup, all may not be right with the world but, as long as our lawn looked good things would be fine.
Posts
