The grass at Half Baked Manor has begun to turn brown. A predictable outcome of high temperatures in the mid-nineties with little rain. But you must understand, this is no ordinary grass! This is hearty, thick, St. Augustine grass created in the greenhouse to withstand the sandy soil, sea breezes, salt air, northeasters, high heat, and high humidity of North Florida. And this is no ordinary St. Augustine grass, either!
In a couple of weeks, our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary will arrive. For some couples, their twenty-fifth anniversary means going on a cruise, or taking an extended second honeymoon, a splurge of a night or two away, or at least a dinner out. But what did we do? We bought grass! (boring!) And it’s not even the kind you smoke! We bought grass not created by God, but made by man to withstand the inhospitable conditions of the subtropics. And it started turning brown.
So, like any fool who wants to protect the investment in the lawn, I started watering it. But all it did was make the unwatered part brown. Just like when you only paint part of your house — all it does is show how much the rest needs it!
Unfortunately, this capital outlay and this “mobile brown spot” have resulted in my becoming obsessed with making sure our yard gets enough water. Now, if I can manage to keep this from taking on the significance of being a metaphor for our marriage, I might be able to salvage what little sanity I have left.
Half Baked 