The Lawn Arranger

I drink a-lawn? Nobody knows the trouble I seed? I’m too tired for clever titles. Help me out here, kids.

It rained this weekend, but I was undaunted. I tilled in the rain, making adobe in the tines with the weeds and grass mixed in. I raked the churned mud smooth, and, late in the day, handed the land over to Bridgette for seeding. We threw 309 crocus, scillia, and windflower bulbs around and planted them where they fell, which should look nice in the spring.

Then there was collapse. When we were mobile again, we began to catch up on weeks of housework. There’s still much to do, but the toxic parts are sanitary again.

And tonight, for the first time in many days, I had the energy left after dark to sit down and write.

That is exactly what I did.

No schedule. No required word count. I had the time, I sat down, I worked until I was tired. I’ll probably do it again tomorrow.

Night In The Lawn-Sown October? Hm.

EDIT: 52 hours after sowing, I am able to crouch in the rain with my flashlight and count eight soft green needles of new grass. I declare this a park, here and now. I’m going to go have ice cream.

8 thoughts on “The Lawn Arranger”

  1. so… when we get a house can I borrow you and Bridgette to make my lawn and garden all pretty too? πŸ˜€

    oh… and you forgot about balloons… there are always balloons in the parks. πŸ˜€

    1. Check the weather in hell. Advice can be had, though; I could do the same job we did in half the time working entirely by myself, with what I’ve learned.

      Your notion of balloons is a good one. I shall procure balloons on the way home tonight. πŸ™‚

        1. Visiting might be nice…but there is very little that will induce me to create another lawn. Ever.

          That said, I’ve another lawn to put in, probably year after next. Bleah.

          1. *laughs* amazing what pride in ownership does to us, isn’t it?

            … oh and you should probably have a clown to pass out the balloons and a Mime for your park as well πŸ™‚

          2. Don’t get me wrong; I like mimes. I like them fine. In the wild, where they belong, living their lives as nature intended, browsing at the greenery, running in herds across the plains, finding their way out of shrinking boxes…but not in my yard.

            They eat the flowers, and their droppings fowl everything.

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