vaguely feel like there is no hope for my backyard
I get home from work and take my daughter outside.
I prefer the front yard. We don’t really go into the backyard to play as much because our two dogs are there and I don’t really like them, even though they like me fine.
The dogs act okay, they just get a little jumpy. But really I resent them because our backyard had nice lush grass for the longest time and we only had one dog, Lincoln. Then we got another one, Ladybird, and that’s when things became crazy. Now, they fight and roll and wrestle in the backyard and run back and forth along the fence.
The yard looks like a baseball diamond. Pretty soon I expect the dogs to build dugouts or something.
This frustrates me because I want to like my backyard but not with Lady and Lincoln. Each year, I secretly hope that the grass can find a way (that LIFE can find a way) to erupt out of the hard ground and overtake their wrestling, but no.
I used to invest money in mulch and manure and fertilizer and whatever else to get grass to grow in my backyard, but not this year. It was such a waste. A couple hundred dollars every year. I told someone I should invest thousands or none at all in my yard and that I always invested just enough to waste it.
My dad finally told me not to waste any more money on the backyard grass and to buy fertilizer for the front. I did and that’s worked okay, even though there’s a spot I’m not too happy about near the driveway where we step when we get in and out of our cars.
Often I dream about the dogs going away. I don’t want them to die, but I wouldn’t mind if someone else had them. But I do mention them to my friends kind of in an offhand but intentional way. I’m not a very good salesman, though. I always talk about how much I don’t like them.
Ladybird was actually found outside an elementary school in a rural county where our friend was a teacher. She’s kind of fighter and a scrapper even though she’s 25 pounds and looks really innocent. She kinda beats up Lincoln, the bigger dog. She wants to live more freely, I think.
The dogs have not always lived outside. We moved them out there when we added more human bodies. But even when we kept them in the house, they would still wrestle and tear up my grass. I can’t look at those bare patches of dirt or sparse grassy sprouts and not think of it as a reflection on me.
It’s a curse from the fall of man. We feel responsible for our land, and Adam ruined it for us all.
I’m writing this from a nice deck chair in the front yard. Once I suggested putting the grill in our front yard and my wife blanched and said that was “low class” or something and that people don’t really hang out like that in their front yard.
But in the front I can wave to people walking their dogs. I can see this little tiny white dog walk itself. I can hear my neighbor Randall compliment me on my rhododendrons even though I did absolutely nothing to help the rhododendrons.
if you like this, click below & give it your heart // follow‘ vaguely feel’