Geezuz shit it’s hot!  It’s going to be 100 degrees the next four days.  Take into account humidity and the heat index is 115.  To make things worse for me, I just got back from a ten day vacation in my home state of Wyoming.  It was 72 degrees and 20 percent humidity where I was.  I do this to myself practically every year.  Maybe I should start going to a nice place in the Arabian Peninsula or African Rain Forest for my summer trip.  Then I might look forward to returning home.

Cooling off in Jackson Hole WY                                            Cooling off in Omaha NE

A big part of my annual post vacation depression is the state of my lawn when I get back.  All spring long and into the early summer I am attending to my fescue and bluegrass, applying fertilizer and aerating, getting a head start on weeds with pre-emergence, applying fungus preventives, hand pulling the few invaders that happen to slip through my protective chemical barrier, edging, mowing at precisely a three inch height, and watering at appropriate intervals.  I have a rain gauge to help me determine when I should unwind my garden hoses, and I water only in the early morning, something I found by experience to be rather important if your lawn tends to develop fungus.

I am very proud of my lawn, and I think you would have to agree I should be considering all the fucking time I spend on it.  But then I come back from vacation and it looks like shit- a cheerless  brown spot here, some unsettling dead grass there. And it’s not that I totally neglect my lawn when I am out of town.  I have a very dependable neighborhood teen take care of it when I am gone.   I am sure some of the problem is related to all the strains of dreaded fungus I have battled over the years.  What I learned about battling various strains of fungus over the years is that it can become very expensive to battle various strains of fungus.  It gradually became apparent to me that it is more important to be able to buy groceries than it is to feature a pristine lawn.  So it is that time of summer again where I just say fuck it and let whatever happens happen.  You can battle mother nature for just so long.  I’ll re-seed in the fall.

That dose not mean I have given up to the point I would approve of your dog or cat shitting on my lawn.  If I see you walking your dog without a poop bag in your hand and your dog takes a dump on my lawn, you are a marked man.  By that I mean I will mark you with my Super Soaker that I have filled with urine.  Don’t ask how the urine ended up in the Super Soaker.  Just be aware that is is pumped and pressurized and ready to fire.  You might be jumping to the conclusion I hate dogs.  That’s not true.  I just don’t want to unexpectedly step on a dog-shit land mine or run over it with my mower.  I don’t think my interpretation of lawn etiquette is asking too much of anyone.  I have similar rules about dogs inside of my house.  I don’t care if you bring your dog into my house, as long as it doesn’t pee or shit on my carpet and stays off my furniture.  That can not be construed as discriminatingly unfair in any way since I have the same expectations for certain relatives when they pay me a visit.

Aunt Dora’s Well Trained Dog is Never                     When Uncle Bob Wanders into My House             a Problem in My House                                               I Prefer He Stays Off of the Furniture

Since we have touched on the subject, if you are planning on coming to town, let me know.  That way I have time to decide if I should break out the plastic furniture covers or my collection of single malts.