Submitted by megan on Wed, 05/06/2009 - 21:30
There was dirt. And scabby grass. And what was once, in someone's estimation, a glorious water feature that we always referred to as the Mosquito Love Nest.
A quagmire of mud and worms and potato bugs and slugs and small rocks. Sheets of black vinyl, sulphurous when pulled from the ground. Big rocks glued together with weird hard foam that looks like poo.
We're working here on the assumption that it needs to look worse before it looks better. The idea is that we're just going to deck over the whole damn thing. Fuck this patchy grass bullshit. I grew up spending hours mowing the lawn* and I don't want to cut any fucking useless lawn if I don't have to.
There's a garden in the back and a strip along the side: this for useful plants. Kale and nasturtiums and for squash so far. Wax bean and sugar snaps too. Some flowers just for looking at, maybe some morning glories.
I'd love some sweet peas.
They were Poppa's favourite, he grew them up a ring of chicken fence every year. We'd cut them and poke their wiry stems into the holes of the special crystal dish my gran had for them, fresh on the table most of the summer, their thinning indoor scent competing with the hoya over the table when it was in dripping bloom.
But grass, I have no use for grass.
In the end, there will be no grass, just decking with planters on casters, a table near the barbeque, under the pergola. Cold beer in the shade on a hot summer afternoon. Good food growing behind our backs, while we doze with our feet propped up.
*Amy or Dave: How long? I'm remembering it needing about 2 hours each from the three of us, but that seems crazy.