I despise lawn in Colorado. But, then, I despise total xeriscaping even more - something about rocks and cacti seem to make the abode shout, "I'm sterile!" Lawns, however, pose a whole other set of problems; in fact, these very worriments inspire us to fuel a 40 billion (can you BELIEVE it???) dollar industry with its tantalizing promise of sod Nirvana. In American Green: The Obsessive Quest for the Perfect Lawn (2006), author and historian Ted Steinberg notes that's approximately equivalent to "the gross domestic product of the entire nation of Vietnam." Say WHAT???!!!
Of course, this should be less of an "Eeek!" moment and more of a "Figures" one since Americans stand outside at least three months of the year with hose and fertilizer cart in hand poking in dismay at the barren tundra we wish was plush canopy.
What's that you say? YOU'RE one of those dismayed pokers? Well, don't be too dismal: I am, too. Or, rather, my husband is. Was. Probably will always be. But this year was different, see, because Craig is a "putt-putter" (a term of endearment generally referring to the guy who picks a bit at most everything as a form of stress-release) whose annual battle with the lawn reached epic proportions this year. Come about May, he was stalking inside more and more mumbling something about feed, seed, water..."third dimension of hell" might have been in there somewhere...and I decided this was a no-go. No more grass stress for my plot tender!
So, off to the research banks I go...and what do I find? An array of web chronicles so diverse as to be heir-apparent to the literary Canon: I mean, are you kidding me?? But I was not to be deterred and, days and many coffee cups later, I'd decided on the crown gem of products: pre-milled corn gluten. Yep, for just $27 for a 40 pound bag (pricey, yes, but WAY cheaper than a corporate buyout of Scotts and Ortho) and a few easy applications, we were fast on our way. Now, I also patched some spots with Easy Seed - yes, it really does work - and re-orchestrated watering times (thanks, Jason Bowles) but, all in all, the corn gluten was magic fairy lawn dust.
And Craig (yes, Craig) took pictures of the final product one summer evening.
Okay, so it's grass...big deal, right? Even if you factor in the joint effort it took to make it so lush and...well....green, it's still just a photosynthetic product of dirt, seed, and science, huh? Well, like most mind-bending encounters, grass may seem pedestrian at first glance. But then I got to thinking: blade for blade, that's a lot of photosynthetic product of dirt, seed, and science coming together to create a blanket as soft to the soles as it is pleasing to the eye. And it smells good. Looks good. And if, as Steinberg suggests, our lawns are extensions of our living rooms, then I want ours to stand up and shout, "Hello, gorgeous! This land is fertile and vital and all-around welcoming - come on in and sit for a spell!" Or, put another way, thanks to the co-labor of marriage and a fairy dust gluten, the grass really is greener on our side of the fence.
Of course, this should be less of an "Eeek!" moment and more of a "Figures" one since Americans stand outside at least three months of the year with hose and fertilizer cart in hand poking in dismay at the barren tundra we wish was plush canopy.
What's that you say? YOU'RE one of those dismayed pokers? Well, don't be too dismal: I am, too. Or, rather, my husband is. Was. Probably will always be. But this year was different, see, because Craig is a "putt-putter" (a term of endearment generally referring to the guy who picks a bit at most everything as a form of stress-release) whose annual battle with the lawn reached epic proportions this year. Come about May, he was stalking inside more and more mumbling something about feed, seed, water..."third dimension of hell" might have been in there somewhere...and I decided this was a no-go. No more grass stress for my plot tender!
So, off to the research banks I go...and what do I find? An array of web chronicles so diverse as to be heir-apparent to the literary Canon: I mean, are you kidding me?? But I was not to be deterred and, days and many coffee cups later, I'd decided on the crown gem of products: pre-milled corn gluten. Yep, for just $27 for a 40 pound bag (pricey, yes, but WAY cheaper than a corporate buyout of Scotts and Ortho) and a few easy applications, we were fast on our way. Now, I also patched some spots with Easy Seed - yes, it really does work - and re-orchestrated watering times (thanks, Jason Bowles) but, all in all, the corn gluten was magic fairy lawn dust.
And Craig (yes, Craig) took pictures of the final product one summer evening.
Okay, so it's grass...big deal, right? Even if you factor in the joint effort it took to make it so lush and...well....green, it's still just a photosynthetic product of dirt, seed, and science, huh? Well, like most mind-bending encounters, grass may seem pedestrian at first glance. But then I got to thinking: blade for blade, that's a lot of photosynthetic product of dirt, seed, and science coming together to create a blanket as soft to the soles as it is pleasing to the eye. And it smells good. Looks good. And if, as Steinberg suggests, our lawns are extensions of our living rooms, then I want ours to stand up and shout, "Hello, gorgeous! This land is fertile and vital and all-around welcoming - come on in and sit for a spell!" Or, put another way, thanks to the co-labor of marriage and a fairy dust gluten, the grass really is greener on our side of the fence.
And we didn't even have to purchase Vietnam.
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