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Pesticides, Schmesticides; As Long As The Grass Is Always Greener On The Other Side Of The Fence.

June 21, 2008

I saw a house today that had a postage stamp size lawn in the front yard.

A striped lawn

A lawn that was almost completely hidden by row upon row of tastefully layered mostly blue, pinky red and yellow perennials, shrubs, annuals and striped grasses. In my view it was the perfect size for a lawn amongst a glorious array of billowing color. Like an English herbaceous border.

Or the yellow, white and blue variation.

“Look,” I said to N, “if we had a lawn that tiny it would be a breeze to take care of. Know what I mean, nudge, nudge.” He looked at me blankly. I continued, “It’s small enough that you could get down on your knees to closely examine, then strategically remove each and every dandelion (he’s dandelion phobic) with one of those dandelion removing gizmos (that look suspiciously like a carpet installer’s tool), to make sure that your little square is absolutely perfect: weed free and the greenest of greens.” “Ah,” he said, adding, “but it would still require a small amount of fertilizer, herbicide and the occasional ‘zap’ of Roundup.”

Hazardous-pesticide.jpg

Being pesticide or any other kind of “cide” phobic, I’m petrified of the implications for N, our immediate environment, not to mention the eco-system in general, including our greyhound who cannot walk on anything green for days; plus I can’t abide the nauseating, cloying odor that invariably wafts in my direction (via my bloodhound sense of smell) from a closed bag in the garage.

Up-and-over garage door

So what’s a girl to do? I thought that maybe living on a boat in a pristine bay, would help to solve this dilemma.

One Comment leave one →
  1. September 10, 2009 2:58 pm

    Hi! I was surfing and found your blog post… nice! I love your blog. 🙂 Cheers! Sandra. R.

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