Jun 20

Written by: michaela renee
6/20/2008 7:47 PM

One year ago today I was married, about to celebrate my 6 year wedding anniversary.
One year ago today I adopted Dash against the wishes of my husband.
One year ago today we purchased an ocean view house in Point Loma/OB area with a big lawn that needed to be mowed.

One year ago today, we made a deal. I am highly allergic to grass, (not just slightly, but the type of allergic that they skin test you to determine) and terrified of the weed whacker.
So the deal ensued: I would use the push mower to mow the lawn and he would use the weed whacker for all the edging. Since the push mower would not cause grass to fly everywhere the affects of my allergies would be minimized, and since I’m terribly clumsy and do lawn work in my flipflops, avoiding use of the weed whacker would ensure that I would not have any unnecessary trips to the Emergency Room.

Of course, when you go through a divorce and the ex-husband moves out, all bets regarding the maintenance of the lawn are called off. So I decided to get a gardener. As it would turn out my gardener was completely and utterly unreliable and was probably shipped back to the penitentiary on a Paddy Wagon. This left the lawn in a state of disarray. Since I was heading out of town one of my guy friends told me he would get it taken care of while I was away, but alas, he did not.

So I come home around 11pm, exhausted from a week long business trip across the country to find my yard looking remarkably similar to the jungles of Costa Rica. Nearly 3-feet tall with weeds, I could hardly maneuver my luggage up the walk because the crab grass had completely grown over it. To give you a visual, this lawn was so bad that even the dog wouldn’t crap in it anymore.

It took me a full day to contemplate my options and make a decision on what my next steps would be. After much deliberation I decided I am no prissy girl, never have been, I would tackle it myself.

Standing there in my white - ridiculously short - jean shorts, a bright neon green t-shirt and my flipflops I pulled the weedwhacker down from its God-like Shrine in the garage. I grabbed the extension chord and plugged it in. I then stood there for a good 3 minutes mentally preparing myself. It went something like this:

“Michaela, you are strong, you are bigger than the weed whacker. Thousands of people use them every day; just keep it away from your toes. It will be loud – but you will be louder. It will fling pieces of rash-causing grass shards at high speed toward your ankles and calves, but you will embrace the sting – and look forward to your shower.”

I had already determined the small area along the driveway would be the best starting point. It was at this moment -only after complete preparation- that I started it up. VRROOOOM, for a second my chest tightened and my gut tensed up, but then I drew courage from deep inside and ran full speed ahead at those weeds while screaming, “I’ll show you weeds, I’ll show you what happens when you try to take over my life” and I did not stop until they were all dead. All of them.

At this moment, grinning ear to ear I decided the push mower would never be able to handle the overgrowth on the front yard, and I would weed whack the entire thing. Mind you, it’s 6pm on Saturday and half the neighborhood is enjoying a glass of wine and snacking on cheese and crackers waiting for the sun to set over the Pacific Ocean. Nothing was stopping me.

It wouldn’t be but all of 6 minutes before the neighbors would appear yelling, “Hey Freddie Krueger put down the chain saw – I’ve got a real mower you can use for that lawn.”

Have you ever seen what happens when a 5 year old takes his dad’s electric razor to his head? Yep, that’s what my lawn looked like. The neighbors had no choice but to come rescue me. See, it was for selfish reasons…the same way a mother does not want to take her son out after the hair clipper escapade, the neighbors do not want to live next to someone who weed whacked their entire lawn.

The electric mower was a lot quieter than the weed whacker and I suddenly felt a very different wave of emotion. It was not me against the weeds -rage filled and angry about the direct symbolism to the complete and utter overgrown mess of weeds in my life…it was me, with the mower, collectively and decidedly fixing the problem one blade of grass at a time, with precision and direction.

It took me nearly 2 hours to finish the lawn that day, but some pretty impressive things happened during that time. The light in the house across the street where the old man had died in the winter came on for the first time (the new renters moved in). In the distant horizon the cross from the Baptist Church on Sunset Cliffs began to glow against the setting sun during golden hour. And the direction of the wind shifted from the onshore Santa Ana’s providing some relief to my body which was drenched in sweat. At this moment the breeze cut through the overwhelming smell of grass and delivered a salty smell of the ocean, reminding me of the reason I moved to San Diego.

As I paused to look out at the horizon and the ocean waves I realized something amazing, the lawn was the shade of jade.

During our entire year of living here we had tried to fight the browning grass struggling against the desert weeds and the heat with numerous trips to Home Depot to no avail…

But something had happened during the last few weeks as the lawn grew deceivingly out of control, and now that it was fully exposed it looked more beautiful than it ever had. We had tried to fix it with anything and everything money could buy, but it wasn’t until it struggled on its own left raw to grow naturally that it became effortlessly beautiful.

Today I am divorced, about to watch my 7th wedding anniversary pass me up as another day of the month rather than a celebration.
Today I am eternally grateful for Rio and Dash as they remind me every day what unconditional love is.
Today the symbolism is incomprehensible as my freshly cut grass has never looked so green, lush and beautiful as it does now.

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