It looks like I'm going to have to have a change of heart about my lawn care philosophy. First of all, you have no idea how traumatic it is to even have to admit that I have a philosophy on that, since I've always prided myself on not buying into that whole "suburban" mind set. But living in midst of "the burbs" gives me zero chance of NOT turning into the Stepford Husband.
Last summer, when we were having an extended stretch of dry weather my lawn turned into this giant brown carpet, which I was perfectly OK with. I watched with amazement as the other neighbors watered theirs to keep them green and plush. I took a more Darwinian approach, since I've always felt the idea of a manicured lawn was unnatural, and this browning was just nature running it's course. Besides this, it meant the lawn guy made fewer visits and charged me less.
And to insure the further degradation of the condition of the lawn I've got the dog, who has been systematically seeking out the remaining green patches and dropping the urine bomb to brown out the rest of the landscape. Then as a special bonus, she does this whole "paw wiping" routine where she kicks her back paws repeatedly to clean them off, which creates these giant divots, since the dry turf just flies through the air when she does her dance. And I'm lucky enough to have some other creature of creatures creating additional divots in the spots the dog hasn't gotten to yet. I can't wait till spring, so I can see some green again, although the idea of
fake grass is sounding pretty good right about now.
And speaking of the dog a funny story that will probably get me in trouble. We were hanging out and the wife was talking to the dog, but happened to call her the wrong name; she used the name of one of her friends. While she was in shock and horror trying to figure out how this happened when I offered up my own explanation. It's easy to get them confused, since both are blond, a little overweight, loud, high-maintenance, and bark a lot. The wife was NOT amused. The dog didn't seem offended.