Blogday, Earth Day, and a lawn rant

When I said “the first part of my day” in my earlier post today, I really had no idea that actually meant “the entire day.” Somehow I always undershoot these estimates with the misplaced optimism… like also thinking I’d only need one load of compost…

In order to topdress the lawn with compost, I had to borrow my dad’s truck so I could haul it in bulk (ever tried to cover several thousand square feet of lawn with only bags of fertilizer? Me neither, and I wasn’t about to try). My mom had suggested steer manure compost, and most places in town that offer it (always in a mix with “yard debris”) were outrageously expensive, so we settled on getting it from Hershey Cattle Company over in Redmond for only $15 per yard. This is actually a 40/60 mix of manure with topsoil or something, but it was still half as costly as the next place.

The catch, of course, to borrowing Dad’s truck was that I had to drive out to his place (in Alfalfa) and help him load a couch into the back of the truck, which he’d promised to a co-worker. So out I went at 8:30 in the morning. We loaded up the couch, tied it up, and I followed him back into town.

I helped him deliver the couch, to an apartment complex behind COCC, which of course was on the second floor, up a narrow, cracked concrete staircase. Once that was done, we were back to my place, where Dad took my car back home and left me with the truck. By now it was about 10:30.

Let me digress for a bit about Earth Day, since I did mention it in the title to this post. Today being both the anniversary of this blog and Earth Day, it was of course the perfect day to do Earth-friendly yardwork with (ahem) organic eco-friendly fertilizer. My wife transplanted flowers. I worked out in the sun all day. So it doesn’t get any more “Earth Day” than that, despite the goofy guy in a “Cat in the Hat” hat on Z21 yapping about how cool it was that there was some parade downtown to celebrate… how cool the Earth is, or something (hey, his words, not mine). Okay, digression over.

I left around 10:50 or so for Redmond. (I actually had to turn back after two blocks because I forgot my tarp. You didn’t think I was going to drive all the way back from Redmond with a truckload of manure and not have it tarped, did you?) Let me just say this about my dad’s truck: I know it’s been awhile since I had my S-10, but holy crap the clutch on his truck is way looser than mine was and that truck’s seen some miles (and it was only a year older than mine). I was about halfway to Redmond before I got used to driving it.

Got to the Hershey place, paid for a yard (which pretty much fills up an S-10 truckbed), and panicked a bit when the guy dumped the load of manure into the truck with the backhoe and I thought for a moment the shocks were going to go. All of a sudden I was driving a rear-wheel low-rider—really low. I wasn’t looking forward to the drive home (on busy Highway 97 nearly the whole way). So I tarped up the load, tied it, and was pulling out when I realized another nasty little surprise had crept up on me.

You ever drive a pickup truck when it’s fully loaded in back? And by “fully loaded” I mean overloaded? Yeah, besides the obvious (it takes a lot longer to speed up and slow down), the entire front end seems to float around, like you’re suddenly piloting a wobbly boat. I hadn’t really remembered that little phenomenon since living at home and hauling over-burdened loads of hay. I was less than thrilled.

The drive home was uneventful, though (if a little tense). By the time I got back it was nearly 11:30.

Now, this compost was really good, really soil-like in composition. It still stank like steer manure, but it might as well be topsoil in appearance. I figured it would be easy to spread, because we have this little Turf Builder® spreader with adjustable spray opening, and I could just walk around the yard, pushing the spreader and blithely spraying manure all over the place. So I load it up, and the thing won’t work worth a damn. It’s just too small for what we’re dealing with.

So that meant back to the tried-and-true method for cursing gardeners everywhere: wheelbarrow and shovel, and spreading it by hand.

And of course today was a windy day. Not just breezy, but big wind gusts that would come in and handily blow steer manure dust from the shovel all over the place—in your shoes, on your clothes, in your face and eyes. Very lovely. I think I can still sense the stuff in my nasal cavity. But I got a rhythm going finally, and went back for a second load at about 2:30.

Same routine as before, only I think this load was heavier: piloting a jerky boat down the gusty highway. This load went quicker, thanks to my wife helping, and we even had a couple of wheelbarrow loads left over (now in a pile out by the shed). By the time I’d showered and was sitting down to relax, it was 5:20! Where’d the day go? Oh yeah, I got a bunch of shit done… (rim shot).

Now I don’t want to get off on a rant here, but I’m really getting tired of owning a lawn. I think I’m beginning to hate it, actually. The stupid thing is full of dry and dead patches, there’s not enough topsoil underneath the front half (thus necessitating the topdressing), watering is a joke during the summer months (we’re on the edge of the High Desert, remember?), and general maintenance of what amounts to a crop of an invasive plant species is wearing very, very thin with me.

And what are lawns good for, anyway? Let’s see, sitting on (watch out for bugs)… avoiding dog poo… playing croquet on (if you’re British)… lawn darts (try not to kill the opponent)… hmmm. Jeez, when I was growing up, we had very little lawn, and we kids always ran off to play in the dirt and rocks and trees anyway. Go figure.

(Okay, not entirely true; the lawn made a good wrestling ring when we were trying out WWF wrestling moves. But they say kids shouldn’t do that nowadays, so…)

Me, I’d be perfectly happy with a little more natural Central Oregon wilderness. But that’s just my opinion; I could be wrong.

The rest of my day involved drinking some beer and reading my favorite new book. Now that’s the right way to end a day.

And oh yeah, I even sunburned my neck a bit. Now I’m just a red neck hauling manure around in an old truck.

Go figure.