Jul 3, 2015 3 min read

I can’t seem to remember a day when it wasn’t raining. I believe there have been drops of water falling from the sky every day since I returned from the beach.

Try this mathematical formula: Front yard + day job + rain = grass as high as an elephant’s eye. I’m trying to calculate the ratio of dryness to get back out there with the mower. It better be soon, or I’m going to need wwmachetes and a bunch of Ubangi tribesmen to get to the recycle bin.

According to the unfortunately named Peter Landschoot, the turf grass specialist at Penn State’s Department of Agricultural Science, “A good summer mowing height for most lawns is 2 1/2 to 3 inches.”

I am definitely over my limit. Way over.

A few years ago, I remember my brother Rick was issued a ticket from his homeowners association for having high grass. The funny thing about that is my brother is fastidious about his lawn care. He was out of town on business for several days, and the grass got away from him. He got a ticket for it. There were a lot of jokes going around his house about Lawn Care Nazis, but, in the end, he paid the fine. Of course, he moved out of the neighborhood not long after.

Several weeks ago, Rick was in town for a wedding and a weeding. On Saturday, he came in from Ohio to go to watch a friend’s kid get married. On Sunday, he spent a good portion of the day whacking the weeds in my yard.

Personally, I can’t do much the day after a wedding. Two words: open bar.

If you’re wondering why I can cut the grass but not trim the weeds, I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m afraid of the weed whacker. It’s not a phobia. I got whipped by that little metallic string a couple of times. So, now I keep my distance. My ankles have scars on them.

Side note: I am afraid of weed whackers, chain saws and screw guns, mostly because I’m a klutz.

But I digress, like I do. Rick is totalitarian when it comes to lawn maintenance. Once you’ve been issued a citation, you probably raise your game. He came into town and refurbished my yard. I am very grateful, but now I feel obligated to keep the lawn looking as good as it did the day he fixed it. It’s a lot like trying to get your hair the same way as it looked when you left Supercuts.

American writer Henry Miller once said, “The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself.”

My blades of grass are definitely mysterious. Heck, you can get lost among them.

By the time you read this, I hope to have a freshly mown lawn. If I can just get some sunshine up in here.