More than one reason for “No Mow"

The power went out for no more than two seconds in one of last night’s thunderstorms. That was just long enough to require the microwave and stove clocks to be reset, but not the clock/timer in the coffee maker. WTH? It also caused an instant shut-down on my desk computer and when I rebooted that, it auto-selected a wifi network that doesn’t work with Gmail. Today I figured out how to solve that problem but am left wondering if our increasing reliance on less than totally reliable technology is worth it.

back yard "lawn" and wet spot in mid-Summer

Photo by J. Harrington

The back yard doesn’t need mowing as much as the front and North side. The rain made the front “lawn” area too wet to mow, although I tried. Damp soil and mole tunnels made for uneven cuts and poor bagging of the leaves left from Spring. Rain is forecast again tonight and tomorrow. In our area, we’re approaching the wettest year to date precipitation totals. Maybe raising goats would be less trouble and they could munch on the buckthorn in the woods too. At least I’ve never been overly concerned about having the greenest and best lawn in the neighborhood, so it could be worse.

Finding a balance between backwoods rustic and republican suburban is really challenging. More so if one doesn’t have a background in agroforestry or something like that and would really rather be fishing or reading poetry. After all, wild turkeys have moved into the Twin Cities so what’s the advantage of exurban living, especially with more and more tRUMP lawn signs popping up and no metropolitan mosquito control district to help thin out biting insects? Ah, yes -- fewer neighbors overall, except for biting insects.

Grass

By Joyce Sidman

I grow in places

others can’t,

 

where wind is high

and water scant.

 

I drink the rain,

I eat the sun;

 

before the prairie winds

I run.

 

I see, I sprout,

I grow, I creep,

 

and in the ice

and snow, I sleep.

 

On steppe or veld

or pampas dry,

 

beneath the grand,

enormous sky,

 

I make my humble,

bladed bed.

 

And where there’s level ground,

I spread.

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