So I have been putting forth massive amounts of energy trying to grow and maintain my front lawn.
Massive amounts of energy.
My husband hates grass for some reason I don’t comprehend and in his eyes, the dirt front yard set us apart from the rest of the block. Granted, he was right about that … but it was never in a good way. His favorite yard ornament is the huge effing cactus that does the opposite of welcome anyone attempting to knock on our door.
Apparently, Code Enforcement agreed with my perception of the situation because we were given a notice stating we needed grass or bark decorative crap spread around or plants throughout the space or just something other than dirt. Weeds were even acceptable provided they were decent looking weeds (I assume this to be true after looking at my neighbor’s yard a little more closely). Apparently we live in a historical district. That sounds cool – but it really just means we can’t do shit to our house without special approval and, as the notice warned, needed to have a presentable exterior area. They threatened fines and further actions not specified. I think my husband thought they were bluffing.
We paid $300 in fines before he agreed to let me grow some damn grass.
And even then, he wasn’t completely on board with the idea.
Anyway, I’m getting distracted from my main point here. What I’m saying is that it was tough to begin growing grass on this particular dirt. It doesn’t absorb water well at all (that’s an understatement). It’s uneven. It is hard as a rock. It is unwilling to change for me or anyone else who tries to give it life and oxygen and a reputation as anything but tough and unmanageable. But I have been working since Feb. to change its mind about cooperating. I grew some pretty great grass on my 3rd try (not bad considering it was Feb.). I even grew a tree in the front strip of dirt by the curb (I know that has a name, but I don’t have a clue what it is). I am far from a green thumb, let me tell you. I remember growing a Lima bean or some shit in the 2nd grade. That is about the extent of my planting/ growing/ maintaining experience. I was not in a comfort zone. But I was prepared with tools and strategies and books and of course, Google. I made that grass my bitch.
And then … just when I thought I had it all figured out … I saw several weeds trying to infiltrate my beautiful masterpiece.
I was not having it. Not even a little bit. Had I spent so much of my time and energy and money getting things exactly the way I wanted them just to be showed up by some wild fucking weeds? No. I had not.
So I went and bought the best weed killer you can buy to show those assholes who the boss was around here. I sprayed them vigorously with the super powered killing juice with a victorious smirk on my face. I was going to show those bastard weeds who was boss.
A week later, nearly every bit of grass I’d grown had died. My whole yard was no longer the bright green color I had loved so much, but “fire-hazard-yellow” instead. I even managed to somehow kill 1/4 of my neighbors grass/ weeds in the process. I really did get the best killer.
I have since attempted to reseed and reignite the determination and drive I had the first time around. I am just so frustrated that I had it just how I wanted it and with one wrong move, I ruined everything I’d worked so hard to have. I did my best… and made a rookie mistake. I don’t know that I have the ability to try as hard the 2nd time or the 3rd time as I did the first. I don’t feel so sure of my abilities and all the flaws in my yard? You know, the dirt and its unwillingness to yield to become what I think it should be… those flaws are no longer small things I can work through. They’re huge defects that throw out red flags and cause me pause. Should I really invest more time and energy and money into something that’s failed me already? Sure, I know not to buy that strong of weed killer next time, but how do I know I won’t do something else equally as lame to screw it up should I ever even get it to where it once was?
Do I even have the ability to give as much of myself this time around? Or am I still a little bitter about my lack of gardening skill? Will I do it half ass so I am not forced with the reality – again – that my best is not good enough?
How can I be sure that the foundation on which everything is built is not defective?
The most ironic part of all this grass drama is that I’ve felt the same way about my life and relationships lately. If I can’t give the grass an honest do over, how can I expect myself to even entertain the idea of doing so with my personal relationships?