Baby Grass

Tenor Dale of the Rose City Mixed Quartet took on the mole scars (the hills had been long removed) and other blighted areas of the lawn ten days ago.  I had been re-seeding and watering for a month to very little avail.  (It did not make me a happy camper to learn that the grass seed I was using “might” have been as much as ten years old!)  So, I supplied Dale with a new bag of seed and a passel of topsoil.    He worked like a Trojan.

I watered and watered and watered.  Even the tourists noticed.  “Your lawn is beautiful,” one woman said.  (She couldn’t see the mole blight.)  “It must cost you a fortune,” said her husband.  “Or do you have a well?”  Fortunately, we do have a well.  We use “city water” inside the house but, for irrigation, we use the old well that has served residents of this house for 150 years as far as we know.

Sprinkler

Day before yesterday, the first green glow appeared.  Dale had said, “Watch for the green fuzz.”  But it was more like a wimpy buzz cut.  Not everywhere, but almost.  I watered some more.  Every day the glow gets more obvious but I doubt that it will be a seamless blend into the old grass by the time of Our Grand Affair.  Not that it really matters, but it’s always nice to have a target date.

And… never mind that there was a brand new mole hill yesterday.  Sometimes I despair.