Thoughts about Killing Crows and other Suburbanite Daydreams

The lawn is a constant source of irritation to me. Our house was empty for a good year before we bought it, and during that time the poor yard was not taken care of. Weeds were allowed to grow freely and the grass was allowed to diversify itself. Our neighbors, I'm sure, felt better about their manicured lawns since they bordered the lawn that God had forsaken. We moved over labor-day weekend, and except for occasionally mowing, we decided to wait until this spring to get rid of the weedy invaders.

I now know why organic bohemians flock to the city. You cannot be a proper suburbanite and NOT put dangerous chemicals on your lawn to kill the weeds. I've got thistles in my lawn. THISTLES. People have been known to bleed to death after stepping on a thistle.

After our first kill-the-weeds-chemical application, the lawn guy (LG) came to my door with a worried look about him. He said that we had especially aggressive weeds, and that this application would probably only kill about 60% of the weeds and that it would probably take a full season to get our lawn into shape. We both gazed across the street at the lawn that looks like a golf-course, with matching grasses and perfect landscaping and not a dandelion in sight. At our first meeting, I had pointed to that lawn and said, "That's the cut I want!" as if he were a hair stylist. Oh how I covet that lawn.

After LG informed me not ALL of the weeds would instantly vanish, I took a hard look at him and I said this: "Excuse me? What do you mean it's only going to kill 60% of the weeds? Maybe I should only pay 60% of the bill, then, if you're not going to do 100% of the job. I mean, this is ridiculous. I want to talk to your supervisor. Who's your supervisor?"

I'm kidding, I did not say this. But I think that's what LG may get a lot because I have learned that suburbanites can be, well, jerks, especially when it comes to their lawn. I, on the other hand, was thrilled to piece that the dandelions would die ASAP. They made me sneeze. And Ben kept bringing them to me in little yellow sneezy bouquets to put in cups about the house. There were always tears when the weeds inevitably withered and died, sometimes within hours. Now that we live in a dandelion-free zone, Ben has taken to finding clovers. He runs over to me so I can closely examine each one. Will it be a four-leaf clover this time? Not one yet. It is hard to get any magazine reading done when Ben is on a clover hunt.

I have a theory that my next-door neighbors wait until we mow our lawn before they mow theirs. They usually pull their mower out the day after we do. This way, their lawn looks better than ours does six out of seven days of the week. This is the sort of petty thing suburbanites do. My one neighbor spends an immeasurable amount of time fixating over her flower gardens. I was proud that we finally got all of the fall leaves out from our front landscaping. I put almost no effort into our lawn, yet I inexplicably worry that everyone who passes our house judges us based on how well we maintain it. At the same time, I am completely baffled as to why people turn their sprinklers on to water the grass, ensuring a supremely large water bill. Don't they get that if their lawn dries out, they do not have to MOW IT? I think crispy golden grass is lovely in the sunshine.

It's such a beautiful day out, but we must wait until the chemical lawn application dries before it is safe to frolic in the backyard. Is it wrong that while I watch beastly crows search for worms I am fervently hoping that they are poisoned and die as a result the chemicals?

This is my dream, people. A backyard devoid of thistles, dandelions, and crows. And goggy poop.

I dream big.