Showing posts with label pajamas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pajamas. Show all posts

Saturday, May 19, 2012

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.

292/365 by gina.blankI 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.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Pajamas

My nephew is 2. As such, he is adorable--physically, playfully, and linguistically. Right now his big conversational 'game' happens when I say it's time to get dressed. It goes something like this:

G: "Okay, A, time to get dressed."
A: "Dressed? ...No 'jamas?"
G: (in a 'you're so silly' tone) "No, no pajamas! Pajamas are for night time."
A: "Night time?"
G: "Yeah!"
A: (in the same 'you're so silly' tone) "Oh, yah."

I think my favourite part is how he says 'pajamas'--he just says 'jamas'. It's very cute. But it had me muttering, "jamas... pajamas... PJs... pajamas..." as I drove from my morning Place of Play to my afternoon Place of Play. And then I got to wondering--how did they get to be called pajamas in the first place?

Ah, Wikipedia--how I love thee. A quick search revealed that "The original paijama are loose, lightweight trousers fitted with drawstring waistbands and worn in South and West Asia. ... This word originally derives from the Persian word پايجامه Payjama meaning 'leg garment.'"

Who knew? :)