The Grass Is Growing Under My Feet

The lawn has well and truly germinated and, viewed from a suitable angle, has a delicate haze of green. Viewed more closely, there is much bare dirt with several tiny needles of grass poking up per square inch, so short that half of each needle is red and half green. Every day at noon the sprinkler system comes on, showering every last needle gently but thoroughly. The soil has not yet settled into the trenches, indicating that, just maybe, we tamped it enough before we sowed.

Over the weekend a cord and a half of madrone firewood was delivered. I split, Othello stacked, we both threw wood from splitting pile to woodshed. Bridgette and I divided the tilling duties, churning the soil at the top of the retaining wall in the center of the lawn into a 60′ bed for iris. I was the wheelbarrow service, moving amendments for the soil to the bed, and Bridgette mixed and planted and set the irrigation so that the new bed is not a new stressor; it cares for itself, as of 6:00 last night.

Which means:

The lawn will truly not be a mud bowl this winter
The iris are in the ground before they dry out and die
Wood is laid in for the winter, needing only carrying to the fireplace

AND

Several things that Must Be Done with a deadline are complete and off of my plate. I have two more such things, and almost everything I do for a while will be Desireable But Optional, or will be something I can pass to others to do…and maybe I can exercise and write more regularly. That is my intention in busting ass, anyway. We will see.

Crossposted from Epinepherine & Sophistry

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