Not What They Mean By 'Green'

As I was out and about today, I spied something. It's something I've seen in a few neighbourhoods. Do you see what I saw?

That house in the middle sure seems to have the jump on spring. Jarringly so, given the brown-ness of all the lawns and park surrounding it. Walk a couple more blocks, and there is another house, also seemingly well-tended to. I took a photo of his lawn compared to his neighbour's. Certainly seems like he knows his fertilizers.

But look a little more closely. 

Do the edges of those blades of grass seem rather... square to you? A little too clean cut?

They should.

They're fake.

This is the fourth or fifth lawn I've seen in the last couple years made of artificial grass. And it's one of those things that just makes my brain go, "seriously? Really, seriously?" It continues to boggle my mind, some of the things we come up with that serve only to propel our self-centred little lives.

On the surface, I can see the appeal. Save time, energy and money by not having to mow, rake, weed, water, etc. Always have a beautifully manicured, lush-green lawn (because to be fair, I could not tell you where the fake lawns are in the middle of June--they blend in very well). And as NewGrass.ca goes on to say, artificial grass also means no grass stains on kids' clothing, and apparently this stuff is "completely unaffected by snow or ice," so... presumably no snow mould?

Yes, some advantages.

But at what cost?

First of all, are you really saving money? I checked the Home Depot website. It's $189 for 50sq ft. Estimating my front and back yards combined to be about 1,000sq ft, that works out to nearly $4,000. NewGrass has a warranty of 8yrs, so let's say this grass lasts ten before needing replacement. So that works out to about $400/year that this grass is costing me.

Now, let's look at what real grass is costing me. I spend about $5 per summer on a jerry can of gasoline for my lawn mower. I'm supposed to tune up my lawn mower with an oil and filter change every year. I haven't thus far, but let's say I'm on the ball--that's about $50. I try to let as much rain as possible do the watering of my lawn for me, so for the last two summers, I've only had to use my sprinkler 2-3 times. I let it run for the recommended max of an hour each time. I'm not sure what volume of water this is, but knowing my overall water bill during the summer months, I'm guessing the lawn only soaks up $10-20 of that. Let's say $20. I spent $50 on ant and weed killer last year. And another $10 on grass seed to fill in the hole where the ants were. I need to aerate and fertilize, which will run an average of about $200.* So $335 altogether.

Sorry, who's saving money?

Artificial grass supporters would say the extra $65/year is worth it, simply for the convenience of not having to maintain a real lawn. Okay, just hold that thought.

Let's look at the cost to our earth. NewGrass claims their product is eco-friendly, because you save water by not having to irrigate, and because it's made of recycled and recyclable materials. Except... since when was real grass not eco-friendly? MY lawn makes oxygen, for Pete's sake! And while I know that the oxygen output of my lawn is probably not as significant as the tree on the boulevard in front of it--given the surface area of grass blades to elm leaves--my lawn still has its role to play. And not just in the oxygen cycle, but the water cycle, and overall circle of life.

Remove the grass from a lawn, and you've removed one more small piece from the ecological equation that holds our atmosphere together and keeps our climate in balance. Remove the grass from a bunch of lawns, or a few school fields, and it starts to add up to something. Something NOT eco-friendly.

Finally, let's look at the cost to our mental and physical well-being. I'm not sure how many calories a person burns by pushing a lawn mower, raking leaves and grass, pulling weeds, etc. But for me it seems to be enough that, in conjunction with my other favourite summer activities, I do not need to carve out extra time to be active, nor do I need to spend money on a gym membership (again, who's saving money?). I am also soaking up vitamin D from the sun, which is still the best way to get vitamin D.** 

As an introvert, my lawn and garden work is valuable recharge time. Sure, I could just as easily recharge with a book in my hammock, but remember, I'm also being physically active. That's two birds with one stone, people. Plus, the hammock is much more satisfying after all that yard work.

Speaking of satisfying, what a sense of accomplishment and ownership when I maintain my own lawn. Such a heightened sense of competence from all the different aspects of lawn care I can do independently. I have learned so much over the last two summers about the functioning of lawn mowers, how weeds grow, the process of edging, the benefits of mulching... I could go on. 

....What sense of pride and accomplishment does your extra $65 a year get you???

Socially, working in my front and back yards means I have a chance to connect with neighbours. It means I form a relationship with the "fertilizer guy", with my colleague's husband who will teach me how to change the mower's oil, with the greenhouse lady at Rona (I've gleaned her wisdom two years in a row, now). I'm building community.

There is one more aspect of our well-being affected here. When we lose our interaction with nature, we lose our connection to nature. And I'm not sure people realize how important that connection to nature is. Interacting with nature is a sensory experience. I understand the stubbornness of getting grass stains out of jeans--but there is something children learn when they roll around in the grass and feel it under their skin, when they feel and see what it takes to hit the ground hard enough to make a grass stain, when it squishes under their shoes after the rain, in being close enough to the earth to smell it. I'm pretty sure ladybugs and earthworms and the things of childhood discovery don't roam around in fake grass. And while I can't paint all parents with the same brush, I just have this gut sense that those who put artificial grass on their lawns are not the kinds of parents spending all their 'extra time' camping out in nature with their children to give them the experiences they're missing at home. Just a hunch.

In the same way that children are losing their ability to identify where food comes from as they eat more and more processed meals, they will start to lose their understanding of the natural world, and how it influences so many other systems. There is something precious in fully participating with nature in the seasons--watching the change marked by each one. When your lawn stays the same all year.... it's just not natural.

And this connection with nature is not just valuable for children, you know. Who doesn't link carefree summer days with the smell of fresh-cut grass? Who's ever felt the cool relief of laying in the grass after running around in the heat? Do you ever use wet grass to wipe mud off your shoes? Ever watch a robin expertly pluck a worm from the depths of the front lawn? Have you ever grabbed that stray piece of wild grass that's just perfect for blowing like a trumpet? Or ever sat in a remote corner of a field, after a romantic picnic, in that first really deep conversation with a significant other, on the cusp of taking that relationship to the next level, all the while plucking blades of grass beside you to give your nervous hands something to do while the words stumble out of your mouth and you decide whether you can handle looking up from the grass into his eyes?

Okay, Gina, you're diving off the deep end, here. It's just a patch of grass.

Yes, but that's how anything harmful starts. As "just a patch" of something.

Artificial grass is just one more thing that feeds our selfish, individualistic desires. Someone who wants to save themselves a little bit of time and energy. But at the cost of further damaging an already-broken ecosystem, and depriving themselves--and possibly their children--of the natural experiences that contribute to physical, mental, social, and emotional well-being.

Seriously? Really, seriously?

*Though I'm getting aeration and fertilization done for nearly half of that this year.
**Yes, only when I am also responsible about sunscreen, which I generally am.

Of Rain Barrels and the Holy Spirit

My house came with a rain barrel. I had long before decided that once I became a home-owner, I would invest in a rain barrel, so I was delighted so see someone shared my value of collecting rainwater. I much prefer to water my garden and plants by filling the watering can from the rain barrel than using a hose. In part, because it saves me $$ on the water bill. But also, because it's a more eco-friendly option. It always unsettles me a little bit to water my garden, flowers, or--worst off all--the lawn, with drinking water, when there are people on the other side of the world dying from lack of fresh water (that being said, I fully recognize that I am too entrenched in my first-world lifestyle to let my lawn go completely brown or allow my garden to suffer if it hasn't rained enough).

Last year, Edmonton saw a lot of rain (after a winter of also having seen a lot of snow). I never bought a sprinkler. Every time I used rain barrel water on the garden, it was filled up again in a few days with the next rain fall. It was somewhere around late-August where I think I--only once--had to water the garden with the hose to get it through its last few weeks, because the rain barrel was finally near empty.

This year's been a bit of a different story. I bought the sprinkler. And more hose. I still use the rain barrel first, but I have emptied it four or five times to keep my thirsty plants green and growing. I have also, therefore, soaked the garden with the hose four or five times, as I wait for more rain to come. And there has been rain. But usually only for a brief period in the late afternoon or early evening. And not every day. And not usually enough to counterbalance the hot, dry, sun.*

This evening is currently seeing a wonderful downpour.

Depending on how long into the night it continues, it may even fill up the barrel. Last year, I would stare out my kitchen window, thinking there was no way my lawn and garden could keep up with the amount of water its roots were being asked to absorb. This year, I stare out the kitchen window, begging my garden to drink deep. Because you are parched and I don't want to water you if I don't have to.

Sometimes, as I've been staring out the window, I've also reflected on the analogy of the Holy Spirit as water.

It's one of my favourite analogies. The Holy Spirit has been described like a rushing wind, cleansing fire, and refreshing rain (amongst other things). I particularly like the rain analogy, I think because I can relate to the sense of dirt and grime being washed away, the refreshing smell, the softness of once-dry, cracked land, and the absence of thirst after a good rain.

Sometimes we describe ourselves in relation to this analogy of the Holy Spirt. We thirst for God's presence, power, love (and He responds, "All who are thirsty, come..."**) We go through what we call spiritual dry spells. We need to be washed clean from our sin. 

But if the Holy Spirit pours down like rain, what happens in those times when our rain barrel starts to go empty? I don't trust our prairie's meteorological history to wait out the dry heat until the next rainfall. I will make rain on my own. But what about my faith? Do I trust God's relational history to wait out the desert period, or do I try to make rain on my own?

Except, the rain I make costs me.

And the rain I make doesn't always feel like the right thing to do.

And the rain I make doesn't always water as thoroughly.

Hmm.
Not a perfect analogy, I'm sure.
But something I continue to think about.

Especially when it finally rains.

*I am by no means dissing the sun. The sun is amazing. I will take a sunny summer over a rainy one any day. I am merely stating meteorological fact.

** Revelation 22:17. See also John 4:12-14

299/365

Last year, I enjoyed gardening and lawn care, I think mostly because it was exciting to do those things for the first time. Sure, I value growing my own food, and the eco-friendliness of maintaining a lawn and garden. Still, I think I enjoyed it mostly for the novelty factor. I grew vegetables and mowed the lawn, sure, but I didn't plant anything new, I didn't remove anything that I didn't want. I didn't really change anything from the way it had been given to me when I bought the place. I was content to just let pop up whatever popped up, and maintain it as it was.

This summer has already been quite different--and it's not even June.

I am absolutely in love with gardening, lawn care, and my back yard.* Despite recent weeding stories, I am having a ton of fun out there on every sunny day. I like mowing the lawn; I like watering my flower and vegetable boxes; I like seeing the new plants poke their heads out from the dirt; and now that I have my new weed puller, I kind of even like yanking dandelions (kind of). Goodness knows I love jumping in my hammock after it's all said and done.

I still haven't performed any radical changes to my yard/garden, but I have made some little tweaks to get things just the way I've decided I like them. At the end of the summer last year, I pulled away the red, crescent-shaped cement bricks that formed a half-circle flower-bed against the side of my house. I'm not fond of the industrial-looking bricks, and I put a couple flower boxes in the space instead (either this summer or next--I haven't decided yet--I also want to change those same bricks that form my fire pit to smaller, more stone-like ones). I changed the layout of my vegetables this year; I'm planting most of them in squares rather than in rows. In the next week or two, I will pull the clumped and clustered tulip bulbs from the ground so that I can rearrange them to my liking next spring. And this afternoon, I tidied up the dirt beds around my trees.

I have two maples in my front yard. Not your traditional maple--you don't generally see those out here in Alberta. These two are fairly small--they must have only been planted a year or two before I bought the house. Around the bottom of their skinny trunks is a ring of black plastic, forming a circle around each tree, which at one point had looked distinct from the lawn, but in the last two years, has overgrown with the surrounding grass. I decided I wanted to remedy that. Out again with the trowel.

Turns out there was a mix of dirt and rock bed underneath the grass. I sifted out most of the rocks--I didn't want them--and added some more dirt. Around one tree, I planted cosmos, and around the other, marigolds. That ought to pretty things up a little... and keep the grass better at bay.

My intention was only to mow the lawn and pull some more dandelions today before revelling in the hammock. Instead, I mowed, weeded, dug, and planted before finally switching gears, simply because I was thoroughly enjoying all the gardening I was doing!

As an introvert, I find this seems to be a fantastic activity to allow the brain to process... anything. As I had particularly a lot on my mind this afternoon, I think it's another reason I was so content to continue getting dirt under my nails before wanting to move on to my book and my hammock. Still, way more satisfying to spend time thinking amidst the flora under warm sunshine than amongst greasy dishes at the kitchen sink.

It's forecasted to be sunny tomorrow... what else needs doing in the yard?



* Yes, Mother--I did just say that.

297/365

The weeding continues...

After my massive post the other day on all things dandelion, a friend texted me with a potential solution. She stated that I just had to get the Fiskars telescopic weed puller at Canadian Tire (especially as they were currently on sale).

So I did.

The mechanism is simple: plunge metal claws into the earth, and as  you pull it back out of the ground, it brings the weed with it, root and all.

Previously, the system was dig, pop, pull, toss.
Now, that has changed to stab, lean, pull, eject.

Does it get the whole root? Not usually.
Does it get more root than I was getting with my trowel? OH, yes!
Does it still leave holes? Yes.
Are they smaller holes than before? YES.
Does it save my hands and my back? Yes.
Does it uproot double the number of dandelions in half the time? YES.

So, is it a perfect system? No. Though, when it comes to dandelions, I'm starting to think such a thing doesn't exist. Still, it's a better system than what I was previously doing. And as I start to run into more and more people who have uncontrollable dandelions in their yard--where last year there were none--I'm starting to think this might be the most feasible option this summer.

How many weeds could a weed puller pull...

Getting to the Root of Things OR 294/365

Though overcast and breezy, it was nevertheless warm outside today, so I decided to continue tackling the weeds in my back yard that are threatening to overtake it. It is a process in lawn care and home maintenance that I am learning the hard way this year.

I am digging out dandelions one by one with a trowel, because I cannot think of a more effective solution at this point that is not going to cost me the earth. Music makes any work more enjoyable, so I plugged in my portable stereo outside and got to it.

What a process.

There seem to be three types of dandelion clusters in my yard: the brown, dead and wilted ones that I covered in weed killer earlier this week; the bright yellow ones that I missed; and the green, leafy, yet-to-be ones that are trying camouflage with the grass. I went around unearthing all three kinds in a pretty even ratio. The live ones are the ones that are most obvious, and will repopulate if I don't get them. The sprouting ones will take their place if they aren't tackled. And the dead ones--you'd think I wouldn't have to worry about them. But, while some withered and died nicely, others went down with a fight. In the stress of knowing their end was near, they went from yellow to fluffy, and are threatening to start this whole mess over again for next year if I don't dig them out.

Good grief.

My process is imperfect. I cannot get my trowel deep enough to pull the weeds and bring the entire root with me. I managed to get ONE dandelion cluster with its entire root. And it was only satisfying for a moment before I realized the cluster had two main roots, and the other one had broken off like all the others. ...Do you see how long that root is?! I am generally pulling these dandelions with 1/3 the amount of root--if that. Then I cover the hole with dirt and sprinkle over it with lawn seed, in the hopes of growing enough new grass overtop to choke out future weeds. But if I'm leaving that length of root behind, am I even doing any good? Visually, on the surface, it looks better. But only time will tell how well I've actually taken care of what's underneath. Some of those roots are really thick.

My friend, also into gardening, posts Garden Lessons on her blog, as a result of the experiences she and her mother have on their community vegetable garden plot. Now I get how she manages to formulate such rich blog material. From spending hours on her knees with a trowel, that's how.* I had a lot of thinking time as I dug holes today. Which was actually not so bad, because a) I'm an introvert, and b) I've had a couple of brain-heavy weeks worth mulling over. But in and amongst my mental processing, I also found myself thinking metaphorically of roots.

It is often said that when you are trying to get rid of something, or change something, you need to get to the root of the issue--the root cause of what's going on. In my line of work, we often talk about this in regards to children's behaviour. It's not enough to give a sticker for a good job, or tell a child what he/she needs to be doing. You need to find the source of the behaviour: what is motivating that child to communicate this way? Only when you figure that out can you start to provide the right environment for behavioural change.

A few of my closest friends are dietitians. They talk about weight management the same way. It's not enough to just jump on a treadmill or eat less. You need to find out the source of the weight gain: what are the physiological, psychological, or emotional underpinnings of the way a person takes in food and lives actively (or doesn't)? Only when you figure that out can you provide the patient with a game plan to improve their health and weight.

Spiritually, we talk about getting to the root of sin. It's not enough for someone who's into porn to have a password put onto his computer, or for an alcoholic to simply get rid of all the liquor in the house. Unless you look at the underlying wound or spiritual lies driving those behaviours (and then submit those to Jesus), he/she is likely to fall into old patterns.

Get to the root. Deal with the root. Remove the root.

So... dandelions. I am not getting to the root of them. I sort of am--I'm doing better than just ripping the flowers out by the stems. But I'm still breaking the root far from the bottom. ....Is that enough? Is it enough to sever the root, or do I need to pull it out of the earth entirely to be successful? I just want to know, are my efforts worth it? Are these f*ing dandelions going to grow back?!

After three hours, I set down my trowel. I am no where close to being done, but I am done for today. My hands sting. My back aches. My skin is gritty with dirt. I'd like to spend some time reading in my hammock. I feel like I worked hard and deserve it. Simultaneously, I look at the state of my yard, and feel like I deserve nothing 'till every last dandelion is gone. But I don't beat myself up too much. I know I let my yard get like this. It is going to take a while to clean it up. And then the poor lawn has to heal. ...I also remind myself of what the lawn looked like two days ago, and figure my efforts can't be entirely in vain.

Getting to the root of an issue is actually fairly simple compared to the process of change that must follow. That's what takes the time and energy. And depending on how deep those roots go determines the magnitude of effort that must go into restoring what was damaged, whether that's our body, our soul, or our back yard.

I'm doing the best I can.


Also on the plus side, as I made my way to the hammock, I glanced over into the garden and noticed... the spinach has popped up. Clearly, I'm tending some things properly.









* With some wise words, even, on weeds and roots.

I'm Sure There's a Metaphor in This Somewhere OR 292/365

Speckled. Last week, that described the array of dandelions in my back yard. Speckled. So, I went to Rona and purchased weed killer, and dutifully attacked the majority of culprits with three spray-bottles full of the stuff (about 2 1/2L altogether). Just as the bottle advertised, the leaves started to shrivel and turn brown where I had sprayed.

So when I glanced out the window as I was preparing brunch for myself today, I was taken aback at the state of my yard. Speckled had been replaced with riddled.

SERIOUSLY?!

I didn't really want to go outside today. Today was supposed to be a purely lazy Saturday. But it was not long after brunch that I found myself in my pyjamas and gardening gloves, manually removing dandelion masses from my yard. To look at the yard, one would think my effort was minimal, futile, or both.

I missed the boat as far as spring lawn care goes--aeration, fertilization, etc. I know I could have prevented much weed growth had I maximized the health of my lawn's grass production in the first place. I had already realized the consequences of my [mis]-actions as I was standing in the seasonal aisle determining which brand of weed-killer and which brand of lawn-seed to buy. Nevertheless, I thought I had already witnessed the dandelion "explosion", and I know I underestimated the manual labour involved.

First, I looked at the 750ml spray bottle I had used previously, and thought, "screw that." Carefully adhering to the concentrate-to-water ratio, I filled up my watering can instead with four litres of the stuff and outright showered it over the new dandelions. I did that three times to cover the majority of the yard.

Then, with my trowel, I decided to deal with some of the weakened dandelion plants I had sprayed earlier in the week. I dug the trowel deep into the earth. Lifting the dandelion cluster then produced a "pop" sound as the root broke somewhere under the dirt.* I pulled the dirt/grass/weed clump out of the earth, shook off the excess dirt, then tossed the weed into a pile I was starting in the driveway. Dig, pop, pull, toss; repeat.

I knew I would not have the energy or ambition to attack the whole yard today. As it was, I dug up roughly twenty dandelion clusters from the earth. My lawn looks like a disaster. Green grass covered in yellow dandelions, dead brown weed clusters, and now twenty small holes gouged out of the section of lawn closest to the house. I sprinkled grass seed over each hole, and can only hope that new grass will grow there in enough abundance to choke out any new weeds that try to take over its place.

I think I'm a little bit screwed. But nevertheless, I think I might try to attack a dozen clusters or so each [sunny] day till they're gone. I grew up with pristine green lawns. This was never supposed to be my back yard.

On the plus side, the ants in the hill that I infused with Raid last week have been successfully exterminated.... that's gotta count for something, right?

* That's right--I didn't manage to get the full root from a single dandelion plant. Ask how impressed that makes me.

279/365

Not sure if I am edging the lawn, or just destroying it...

243/365

And the spring cleaning continues.
Isn't raking leaves a fall activity?
you may ask.

Can be.

But mulching properties of leaves aside,
it's way more fun to rake leaves on a warm,
sunny, spring afternoon
than a cold, windy, fall afternoon.

241/365

Spring is here.

41/365

It's been about 30C (85F) for the last several days in Edmonton. Uncharacteristic for the city (heck, most of the country) this time of year. This is the fourth year in a row that we have been blessed with summer temperatures in September. Climate Shift, thy name is Alberta???

Still, despite the summer feel, it is clear that fall is arriving. Neighbourhoods and River Valley trails are spotted with yellow trees, the sun is waking up later and going to bed earlier, and as hot as it's been getting in the day time, it's dipping down to about 10C or less (50F) at night.

I decided to mow the lawn this afternoon. With the increase in temperatures and decrease in rain these last few weeks, it's been a while since I'd tended to it, but it was finally starting to look a bit untidy, so I figured my lawn deserved a hair cut. :) Except that mowing the lawn then turned into a whole clean-up-the-garden event. My mom joined me outside, pointing to different areas of the yard and commenting, "in the fall, you'll want to... this" and "in the fall, you'll want to... that." As I'm taking note of these garden tips, I'm thinking about how it pretty much is fall, and how it's not going to get any warmer, really, than it has been this week, so maybe I should start tackling some of the tasks now, while it's still nice enough that I want to be outside.

So we loosened the dirt at the side of the house and yanked up a bunch of weeds. Pulled out the mass of weeds growing between the driveway and the fence, as well. Took apart the small garden bed near the BBQ that I want to re-build differently next spring. Plucked a couple cucumbers from the garden and watered what's left of the vegetables.

Next weekend I will do more pulling and plucking, as well as some pruning.

It's hard to believe the season of growth and colour and life is moving towards dormancy once again, and in a couple short months, I will be shoveling the driveway instead of mowing the lawn. :\

That being said, as long as it is warm and sunny, I will get my hands a little dirty while I can.

The Grass is Always Greener... OR 2/365

I don't mind mowing the lawn. I wouldn't say I love it, or look forward to it, but I don't mind it, either. Especially on a sunny day with my iPod going. There is something satisfying in the freshly trimmed rows after you mow the lawn. And of course, the smell of fresh cut grass!