I Fought The Lawn, And The Lawn Won

(From the Janesville Messenger, 5-17-09)


A few years ago, I was given a book called "How To Mow The Lawn." The cover features a 1950’s-era photo of a trim, shirtless typical dad, pushing his motorized grass cutter over his perfect suburban lawn.

This is one of the things that we as men strive for – the perfect front lawn. We desire a weed-free, well-manicured carpet of green that shows neighbors and passersby that a real man lives there, a man who is cultured and classy, yet not afraid to get dirt on his hands. Or who can pay someone else to get dirt on their hands.

To many, a perfect front lawn is as much a status symbol as an Audi convertible. But when the car is parked in the garage, who’s going to see it? Your grass is front and center all the time, thumbing its nose at the dandelion-riddled lower class.

In my case, if a man is indeed judged by his lawn, then my level of respect ranks somewhere between Michael Vick and Rod Blagojevich. In a world where beautifully manicured lawns are spectacular welcome mats, my front lawn is the ratty bath mat at a cheap motel.

The inability to whip my lawn into shape has frustrated me for the 17 years I have lived at my current address. Oh, it’s not that I haven’t tried. I’ve spread so many granules and chemicals on my lawn over the years, I’m surprised I don’t have seven-legged rabbits hopping around my yard. But the more I try to fight, the stronger my weedy opponents seem to become. I even tried a lawn service one year, but they were as successful with my stubborn lawn as the obedience school was with Marley in “Marley & Me.”

My longest, most unsuccessful battle has been with ground ivy, a.k.a. Creeping Charlie. This stuff is tenacious. Like Arnold Schwarzenegger in “The Terminator,” it just won’t die.

At one point, I thought I had found the solution to Charlie’s sinewy hold on my lawn. I was directed to a product that was described to me as the only weed killer on the market that would really knock Charlie out. It was strong and unpleasant stuff. To apply it to my lawn with a sprayer jar and hose, I outfitted myself with eye protection, a mask, a hat and overalls that immediately went into the washer post-application. I am thankful I do not live on a busy street, because I’m sure photos of me in my Hazmat suit would have shown up on the Internet.

This particular weed killer worked and worked well. I did a victory dance when the Creeping Charlie browned and withered. It was a banner spring for the front lawn at Lyke Manor.

However, after a time it became apparent that I couldn’t stop Charlie; I could only hope to contain him. He reared his ugly head again and again, and over time, subsequent applications of the nasty solution seemed to have less and less effect.

My wife owns a book that lists ways to simplify your life. One idea it recommends is to quit worrying about your lawn. It specifically stated that there are benefits to letting the ground ivy thrive. For example, in a dry summer, Creeping Charlie is heartier than grass and stays green when the rest of your lawn goes brown. That short chapter was the final prompting I needed to raise the white flag and sign the surrender documents.

Not that I needed much prompting, however. With each passing year, I felt less and less comfortable contributing such powerful chemicals to the groundwater. I kept weighing the benefits versus the potential damage and didn’t like the way the scales were balancing.

So this year, I completely turned over a new leaf. No fertilizer, no weed killer. When some non-Charlie weeds showed up that were just too big and ugly to bear, I got on my hands and knees and dug them out. And because I didn’t fertilize, my grass is not overly thick, which means my nice, quiet, non-motorized push reel mower does a fine job on the grass, if you don’t mind pushing it over the same spot more than once.

Because I wish not to be judgmental – and because I have friends that own hardware stores - I don’t want to discourage you from purchasing whatever lawn care additives you wish to make your grass look the way you want; to each his own.
But if you’re tired of fighting the ground war, you’re not alone.