txrose's Blog

Just for You
Apr 21, 2008 | 8:47 PM PST

I thought I'd share this its a interesting take on our summer routines. Ya'll have a great week!

God Finds Out About Lawn Care

"Winterize your lawn," the big sign outside the garden store commanded. I've fed it, watered it, mowed it, raked it and watched a lot of it die anyway. Now I'm supposed to winterize it? I hope it's too late. Grass lawns have to be the stupidest thing we've come up with outside of thong swimsuits! We constantly battle dandelions, Queen Anne's lace, thistle, violets, chicory and clover that thrive naturally, so we can grow grass that must be nursed through an annual four step chemical dependency.

Imagine the conversation The Creator might have with St. Francis about this:

"Frank you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracted butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles."

"It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great extent to kill them and replace them with grass."

"Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?"

"Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn."

"The spring rains and cool weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy."

"Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it _ sometimes twice a week."

"They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?"

"Not exactly, Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags."

"They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?"

"No, sir. Just the opposite. They pay to throw it away."

"Now let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?"

"Yes, sir."

"These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work."

"You aren't going believe this Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it."

"What nonsense! At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life."

"You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and have them hauled away."

"No! What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and keep the soil moist and loose?"

"After throwing away your leaves, they go out and buy something they call mulch. They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves."

"And where do they get this mulch?"

"They cut down trees and grind them up."

"Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. Saint Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?"

"Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about..."

"Never mind I think I just heard the whole story."

Catching Up
Apr 14, 2008 | 6:55 PM PST

Today got off to a rather slow start as I had to check in to GG and play a few games guess a few plants (though I'm usually not correct its fun and enlighting to seek information). I was able to get going once it warmed up to around 60 degrees outside. I purchased gas for the mower and that was the hard part...then I set out to rake the pecan shells and sweetgum balls up from the backyard. I ended up leaving the shells and bending to pick up the sweetgum balls! My back is sure to be feeling good tomorrow. I finished that and thought about saving the sweetgum balls for some bright idea, if ever there is one, other than a christmas craft idea!  Then I dumped them in the burn pile its easier and its allowed here even though I hate it as its not GREEN. Yeah, neither is the gas mower.

Ok, so then I retrieve the mower and mow good and steady at least an hour and cover 1/4 the of the backyard. Then all of a sudden the lever that makes it propel itself is loosened...okay I know that feeling, I shut off the mower and check it out. I couldn't fix it but thought maybe it will work anyway..so I pulled the start string and "POP" well...now I remember..the same thing happened last year the belt is off so I had to stop mowing until the morning when I will have help to fix it. I had to stop. (happy little smile)

So I went out to continue painting my future salon the fashionable dark purple (really its awesome). When I entered the shop I felt like something was looking at me I kept walking and then there it was!! A sparrow was in there how it got in I'll never know I checked everywhere. Do ya'll think that is a good sign? At least I know God does watch over the sparrows he looked healthy so I opened the door and let him out.

That was all I had in me I didn't want to paint. So I got back on GG of course and played some more. Then I got the bright idea to grab the camera and take some photos of the trees in the yard and catalog them.

 The neighbor told me while I was picking up sweetgum balls that "You have Mr. Doyle (original owner 1948) to thank for that" "Mrs.Doyle said no,no I don't want that tree planted out there" but Mr. Doyle did it anyway....Thanks a heap Mr Doyle.