Third Year of Gardening

Every year, some more square meters of the thick lawn are turning grey as I’m digging it over. Lots of couch grass in between, but I’m in no mood of using herbicides.

cat in the sun

There’s nothing like the warmth of dug-up earth …

five cats on the window ledge

… except bird-spotting from the window ledge, maybe.

____________

Related

» Spring by Day, April 3, 2013

____________

3 Comments to “Third Year of Gardening”

  1. Look JR. I’m a bit of an expert on outdoor matters, being a rural land owner.

    Re: lawn turning grey. Sounds like you have lawn grubs eating away at the subterranean root systems, and that nature is out of whack at your place, probably due to an abnormal number of cats in the Great Chain of Being.

    I’ve come to accept the fact that certain happily married couples may feel the need to have one cat around the house for mousing purposes, but that bird murdering gang is a bit excessive.

    And I’m quite sure other readers agree.

    I know. I know. That bloody KT hates all animal companions.

    Untrue. For the next ten days starting tomorrow, I have to feed an arthritic cat (one Ely) and an equally arthritic dog (Nugget) up the hill twice a day. The vet bills for this over-the-hill pair of critters would support a small third world nation.

    Hoping to hell none of them kick the bucket on my watch because if they do, I’ll have to leave Dodge in a hurry.

    Anyway, I’ve given you my best advice re your infestation of lawn grubs.

    Like

  2. Since I’m feeling very collegial today JR, I’m not going to bill you for the above gardening consultation.

    Like

  3. I’m not going to bill you for the above gardening consultation.

    Tubbydarling, before you think of billing me, make sure that you understand my pulitzerprizeworthy English. The lawn is turning grey insofar as I’m digging it up; so the greyishness is exactly what is intended.

    that bird murdering gang is a bit excessive

    Five out of the nine are an accident – Big Mama played us a trick, as she kept breastfeeding her first batch (which was a gross sight, two almost grown-up cats at her tits), and we didn’t want to put her under the knife too early.

    Anyway – the catshit keeps the ground smooth. These creatures dig like hell, holes big enough to bury them, and I’m taking some pleasure in thinking that they are crapping on your head on the other side of the globe, KT.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: