The guy who sprinkles fertilizer and weed killer on my lawn every 3 months came by today, cast his magic dust about our .09 acres, then left a little note on the invoice:
Weed control very good. Maintenance is excellent.
Good Job!
I swelled with pride. No, really. I did.
After 10 years of trying, this is the first year our lawn has looked like one of those lush, verdant carpets of grass like you'd see on the cover of Lawn Care Weekly. And it's all because there was finally enough rain that it didn't die in mid-July. All I do is mow it. Regardless, I will take the credit.
I am The Suburbanite !
Neighbors! Gaze upon my glorious turf, ye envious tenders of weed-specked sand-scapes, and despair!
HA!!!!
The day before Dad sold the 5 Finch Rd residence, he said to me (out of the corner of his mouth), staring out over the backyard, “I could’ve written 7 novels in the time I spent on this lawn.”
now that was some sandy soil. he should’ve planted sea oats.