A Homeowner's Lament -- Giving In To The Power Of Weeds

(From The Hartford Courant -- By Jim Shea)

I am a man forced by cruel circumstance to work long and hard at a no-pay job in a hostile environment without the protection of even the most basic labor laws.

I am a man who routinely operates dangerous machinery in an inattentive manner, particularly when drowsy, which is most of the time.

And I am a man who not only deals with hazardous substances and chemicals but who also routinely releases them into the air and soil.

Did I mention I have no training? Did I mention I am not alone, that there are thousands, millions, out there just like me? Who am I?

I am you. I am your neighbor. I am a fellow sufferer of the slings and arrows of outrageously pampered fescue and rye.

I am a lawn owner.

I hate my job. I really hate my lawn.

That said, it's looking pretty good these days, most of it anyway.

Unfortunately, there are areas of concern, places where a weird species of weeds has established a base camp.

These are not ordinary weeds; these are weeds born of a sudden burst of extreme heat. These weeds have super powers, among them being the ability to communicate with the dog.

I'm not kidding. My dog will lift a leg anywhere in the yard without regard to whether the object of his relief is a plant, structure or, in some cases, attached to a shoe.

But he will not mess with, or go near, the weeds.

I have not been as wise and have from time to time made the mistake of attempting to take the straggly suckers on.

I tried pulling them up by the roots and ended up with trenches the length of THE SAN ANDREAS FAULT.

I tried cutting them, and they were back the next day twice the size -- and angry.

I tried spraying them, and I swear they just laughed, which as you might well imagine can be quite discouraging.

To be honest, if it were up to me, I'd just let the weeds take over. However, such a laissez-faire attitude would not sit well with the neighbors.

Neighbors are generally as concerned about your lawn as they are about their own. This is because a neighborhood is only as good as its worst lawn, a law of homeownership that, understandably, puts a lot of pressure on a guy like me.

The best solution for all concerned, I think, may be the latest generation of artificial turf, which is long and lush looking, comes permanently manicured and never needs any attention, outside of an occasional vacuuming.

Of course, I'd have to run this idea past the weeds first.