2. We are now in the biggest drought since, like, 1920. Something like that. The city is only belatedly making noises about water conservation. I've been doing my part by not watering my lawn, but the city still felt obliged to send me a notice to mow my dry, dry weedy expanse of a back yard. I shall not mention the irony, except, oh, look, I already did.
3. I will continue not to water my lawn, but I draw the line at my giant tubs of tomatoes. I went to the farm and dug up two big tubs of "barn dirt," my mom's euphemism for what we pick up out of the horses' pens, put in big piles and allow to dry out in the sun. I then filled four big planter tubs halfway with "barn dirt," topped each one with potting soil, slipped in a few tomato plants and have been watering and fertilizing faithfully. I AM WILLING FOR ALL ELSE TO DIE BUT TOUCH MY TOMATOES AND IT IS AWWWWWNNNNN.
4. Speaking of mowing, as you will recall I did in No. 2, last year, I lovingly cherished and coddled six teeny weeny rose plants purchased for a bargain price. Each little plant grew from about 2'' high to about 8'' high under my kind benevolence, and I finally transplanted the little darlings to the great scary outdoors. And they lived! They lived! Right up until it was late in the summer and I hired a substitute to mow my lawn (so that I wouldn't get a notice from the city about my grass being too tall.) Unfortunately, I had let the grass get so tall that it was taller than my beloved teeny rose plants. Or something. Anyway, the lawn man KILLED MY DARLINGS with his evil mower. I wept true tears, because -- MAH BABEEEEES! This year, I did not plant baby roses. I couldn't take the pressure. Also, there was a good chance they would have died in the drought anyway.
5. This year, my neighbor's house is for sale, because she became ill and moved to be with her daughter. A company is taking care of the place, it was kind enough to let me know in a doorknob hanger. She had been growing some lovely irises and day lilies, right on the dividing line between her front lawn and mine. Yesterday, the lawn-care company was parked out front of her house. Today, I noticed that the dividing line between her lawn and mine is flat. Yes, the evil lawn man strikes again! Irises and day lilies, all flattened.
6. In summary, lawn care companies=evil. But I have foiled them. If they can get their evil lawn mowers up on top of my tomato tubs -- well, I won't tempt them or anything, but it will be AAAAWWWWNNNNN.