Friday, April 22, 2011

Snail (Daily Photo 4.21.11)

Like it? 

The people I come from were farmers. The way they lived was to plant seeds, grow things, pick them, eat some of them, sell some of them, and repeat the process. If they didn't grow things, they died. I can't grow shit. I can't keep houseplants alive for longer than a week. My front lawn is looking like a scrap of dirt lately with occasional tufts of grass poking through and struggling for life. Never mind food: I can't even grow grass. I don't know how this happened, but I know why it happened. It's because I touched it. 

When I first moved into this house, my front yard was lush and green. Now it's patchy, mostly dirt, mostly dead. I see my neighbors' lawns and they're fresh and healthy. They don't do anything to their grass and yet it grows just fine. I don't do anything to my grass and it wilts like a cheap salad and I end up with post-apocalypse landscaping. 

My parents can grow things, but they never taught me how to grow a lawn. I grew up in a tenement. We didn't have grass. My yard was cement. So I've gone 34 years without knowing how a lawn works. I'll go the rest of my life without knowing what to do, I'm sure of it.

I guessed that the way to fix this was to add more grass seed. So I rooted around under the porch, found a bag of sun-and-shade grass seed a few years old and a bag of fertilizer possibly older than that. I got out my Garden Weasel and basically churned up the dirt, spread some seed, added some fertilizer, and sprayed it with some water. I don't know how much of these items I added. "Some" is all I can say. Maybe I added too much of all of these things, or too little. I don't fucking know. What I want is, like, an expert to come to my house, assess my grass, tell me what's wrong with it and how to fix it, and then do it himself because I'm not good with plants. Also, I want this to be free.

No comments:

Related Posts with Thumbnails