My Uninhibited Joy In Watching the Grass Grow

Early Saturday morning, my husband urged me to rouse myself from the comfort of a cozy warm bed.

What kind of moron would do such a thing I ask you, especially when my coziness was further enhanced by the presence of several furry behbehs cuddling snuggling on or about my person? What kind of wild-eyed maniac would do something so ... so utterly devoid of human compassion, when a soft breeze was playing with the curtains, and the sweet chirping of meadowlarks afar was coming through the window borne on the gentlest of new sun's rays, beside said bed? When visions of heaven, starry sweeps of far off joy, and God knows whatever other ineffable images of contentment and homecoming were as yet being played out in the depths of my sleeping brain... quickly fading, never to be seen... come back! Come back! He'll go away, oh.....

Cathy, love of my life, you have to come see! Come see! Come on, I can't believe it! {he is gently tugging, misplacing all sorts of animal life mixed up with bedding, tossing pillows and tugging, tugging me to my feet}

There are several good reasons for not having a loaded pistol in my nightstand, which we can discuss later.

Having succeeded in his nefarious scheme to rob me of all peace and comfort, my husband proceeded to manhandle me to the front porch, whispering persistently in my ear
"look! Look! can you see it! Look!"

Fully expecting to witness at the very least an alien starship landing in the meadow beyond, I was looking up the hill for signs of extraterrestrial life when he pointed my head down, at the sad brown dirt we had recently covered with bits of hay....

and then I SAW IT! Gasp! The tiniest of hopeful blades of bright green baby grass, poking their heads out looking me straight in the face.

I hope our geriatric happy dance gave some measure of amusement to the neighbors down the road, i saw them look at me funny later. But come to think of it, they look at me funny every time i see them.

But to get back to the real point: We have Grass! Since that memorable moment the days have been punctuated by Sightings of the Green. Oh look! there's some over there! Can you see it? No? Oh well here's some!

We periodically walk out the front door, arm in arm, proud parents of an army of tiny blades (few and far between, but we were so skeptical they would ever appear we had already started scraping together errant nickels and dimes, wondering what the neighbors would think of us laying down two or three little strips of sod at a time, figuring we could get it all covered by, say, 2010).

Oh, life is gooood people. Life is good when a body got GRASS. Uh huh, uh huh, doin the grass happy dance.