Meanwhile, Out in the Back Forty

Sometimes you need to admit you're out of spoons and it is time to call in the professionals. Landscaper-type people, that is. Two fellows with approximately ten times the upper body strength as moi showed up on Saturday afternoon. It took them two hours to clear this area of weeds, rocks, and stubborn plastic netting* and till it into a space that will eventually be my barefoot-grass lawn. I know, it's only about 100 square feet of space, but that is all I'm willing to commit to watering and keeping weed free. Bound by the flagstone patio, a section of deck, a sidewalk, and a border of blanket flowers and yarrow, this patch of dirt has been sprinkled with grass seed and will be watered with loving attentive care. With any luck, there will be baby grass before fall turns to winter. I don't know about you, but I will enjoy having a lawn that requires a mere ten minutes to mow. And that includes getting the mower out of the garden shed. 

*remnants,I am told, of a previously sodded-in lawn that eventually perished.