It’s early morning and I just came inside from moving the sprinklers on my lawn. I thought at one point I would like to have one of those automatic underground sprinkler systems. You know, the ones that know when and where your lawn needs water. On at 10:46 p.m., off at 11:28. Occasionally blowing a sprinkler head off giving you your own Old Faithful geyser spraying skyward making wonderful rainbows in the air. But I got over it. I found I enjoy watering my lawn. It gives me a definite reason to be outside early in the mornings and in the first cool of the evenings — especially when I’m too busy to just go outside and enjoy those times.
Today I had a “ta-da” moment. After doing my rounds with the hoses, checking the garden and my dripper line where I have some non-arid climate trees that are trying their best to survive where I have deemed they live out their lives, I noticed things have slowed down in the growing process. Like a higher power has decided I should slow down and enjoy the rest of the summer.
Here’s what I mean. In spring everyone I know is zooming to keep up with the season and all the things accompanied with it. Weeds, planting, fertilizing, weeds, flower beds, weeds, bugs, weeds — oh, did I mention weeds? (My other half sprays weeds every single day!) So as per normal on this beautiful July morning while outside thoughts in my mind, such as it is, leaned toward getting my weedeater out and doing some trimming. But I noticed there isn’t much trimming to do right now. The grass has slowed its jungle fever pace enough that this week
I could probably mow and not have to trim the edges. There might even be a chance the mowing could be cut back to every two weeks for a while instead of every week like it has been since the spring race began. Really? Sweet!
In years past I, of course, have noticed the growing season begins to slow down toward fall. After all, how many green lawns do you see under the snow and ice of winter? AARGH. Who said winter? Fall slow-down-growing isn’t what’s happening now. This slowing is due, I think, to not only the heat of summer, but the fact that summer is racing by and we need to let some work go and play a little bit!
But that pull of the lawn mower is strong. Not the pull of the lawn mower rope, I mean the tug of the mower to get you out there on Saturday morning and cut the grass and fill the air with that cut-grass smell. If I don’t mow on my mowing day, will I miss mowing? If I don’t mow on my mowing day will the next mowing day be too much for my mower? Or my back? If I don’t mow on my mowing day will the rest of the week be offkilter, out of whack, half-a-bubble off? I go through this every year. Along with trying to decide where to put the Christmas tree so every spot on the rug in the living room has a chance to get its fair share of tree pitch ground into it! Stuck in the wrong pile again aren’t I ...
So how many times a day do we have these internal debates, discussions, even knock down drag out fights with ourselves? I mean come on — it’s just grass. It’s not like I’m going to have an effect on say the outcome of some upcoming election. (Me being political is like me giving up ice cream — NOT!).
I bet I argue with myself about 50 times a day, if not more ... no, less. No, more. See what I mean? Seems the more decisions there are to be made the more we internally discuss them. Can you imagine how noisy it would be if all those ifs, ands and buts going on in minds around us could be heard?
Even mundane tasks would become loud and obnoxious. Like watering the lawn. Inside my head it kinda sounds like this, “Should I turn off the water before moving the sprinklers or just let some water sprinkle on me? Come on it’s just water. It’ll dry and it’s hot it’ll feel nice. Not too close to the windows, don’t want water spots. I need to trim that tree. Well, there’s more poop to pick up ...” You get the idea. And that’s just me doing one thing.
Look at the faces around you and imagine what is going on in those heads — right now!
I’ve decided I’m not going to mow this week. Can you say fishing? What bait to take ...
Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her book ITY BITS can be found on Kindle. Share with her at firstname.lastname@example.org.