So, I cut the lawn again on Saturday. Cutting the grass is just something you have to do. Back in May it wasn't such a big deal. Getting the old lawn mower started up again after the winter is kind of a rite of passage. The smell of the cut grass is nice and the lawn looks great after that first cut of the year.
You get into August and that special feeling has come and gone. By this time you've been cutting the grass just about every week. Yeah, its a chore now. The lawn doesn't look so great this late into the summer. There might be a lot of green things but there's not a whole lot of them that could be considered grass.
Who the hell established this whole thing about having a lawn in the first place. Here in New England, I gotta think that having a spread of nice green grass in front of your log cabin was not something the pilgrims concerned themselves with. When did this foolishness start? Did John Adams, after moving from downtown Boston out to the burbs in Quincy, figure it might be a great use of the land by planting grass. It's not a crop, you can't eat it, you can't do anything with it except cut it every week.
When you look around the neighborhood, why is it that everyone elses yard looks better than yours. You cut your grass and as your cutting you see clover, crab grass and some sort of purple looking thing. You look down the street and the neighbor's yard looks like the Augusta National. And, your lawn has an overall yellow tinge.
I guess it is a community thing. This is when we get to see our neighbors. Every week there we all are out there cutting this greenish yellowish stuff and taking solace in the fact that we are not alone. Everyone of us are out there cutting this damned shit.