I love grass. Some would say I’m obsessed with grass. Not the ‘spark up a doobie’ type, the regular, lawn type, just in case you’re wondering. There’s something wonderful about a nice patch of lush, springy, green grass that I just can’t get enough of. When we arrived at this place, the backyard was not in particularly wonderful shape – the grass area particularly. In fact, it should more accurately have been called the dirt area, or maybe the concrete area, because the dirt had been compacted so much from heavy wear it was virtually impossible to crack the surface. And so one of my first acts as tenant here was to remedy that situation, and create a nice, thick, lush lawn for Chelsea to play on.
I did it in sections, making sure each section was good and thick before moving onto the next, and just recently, it’s gotten to the point where it’s about as good as it’ll get, given that it’s in a fairly shaded spot and under a tree. And so I am rather proud of my patch of grass, as humble as it may look to anyone else.
Sure, I’ve been called ‘crazy’ for growing patches of grass in pots and discarded meat trays. But those patches have filled in some of the gaps and given me great pleasure in clipping and shaping them into perfect patches of turf.
So it’s taken almost 5 months, but here is my lovely, luscious lawn:
and from the other direction, our whole backyard:
Truly a yard to be proud of. And with summer coming, it’s likely this is as good as it’ll get, so I’m enjoying it while I can.
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