turf wars

I live in Eugene. Home of the amazing, incredible, hardly-ever-defeatable Oregon Ducks. You know, the team that hails from Phil Knight University? Oh… apparently the name change hasn’t gone through yet? Well, I’m referring to the University of Oregon.

[Before I continue, I’d like to interrupt my thought and assure you this is not a post about sports. I’ll leave those posts to be written by the school-color-body-paint-wearing-mascot-hugging pros. Or the sports journalists.]

I’ve lived most my life in the area. Though in my younger years I really didn’t care a bit for the Ducks, I find myself cheering them now. I’m not a crazed fan, but in our community, it’s almost like a communicable disease. People just can’t help but catch Duck Fever. It’s a fever even a cowbell can’t cure. I blame it on the fact that all though town you see the Ducks symbol everywhere; the Nike swoosh. Needless to say, I can’t help but show a little pride in our school full of way too much pride (in its sports program anyway).

I’m not sure my next-door neighbors are fans, but they have an incredible lawn. They moved in a few years ago and went to work trying to change everything about the house and yard. After months of carefully measured waterings, specialized fertilizing and complex mowing schedules, their lawn is great. It’s the kind you want to take off your shoes and run through because you wont step on any thistles or misplaced toys. It’s also the lawn that it’s frowned to tread upon because you’ll leave footprints. And wow is it green!

So, I being the faithful-ish Duck fan and person who always wants to bring balance and harmony to the world have done mostly the opposite of what they have. My lawn is not chemically treated.  I like to be barefoot and my boys do as well. Plus I have a dog with sensitive skin. (But he’s tough.) So the last thing I want to do is run through the yard on chemicals whose names you need a specialized college degree to read. My lawn is mostly green, but not a lush green. It has moss, clovers and weeds  throughout it. It’s actually a bit yellowish.

I like that. When I look across my lawn towards the neighbor’s yard (our grass isn’t seperated by anything), I see school colors. Yellow and Green. We are working together to show support! (Though I’m not sure they feel the same way)

After being gone this weekend to see family, I returned to a lawn that was due for its weekly mowing. I rarely let it get too long, that literally drives me crazy. Plus, I can get a bit stuck on keeping up appearances. As I was assessing the extent of work I needed to do, I noticed a peculiar site. There were weeds on my lawn. Yes, I just said I had weeds in my lawn, what’s the big deal, right? These weeds were already pulled. Now dead. And they were in a pile in the middle of my grass, surrounded by holes where they had once resided. I didn’t pull these weeds. Last I checked, weeds aren’t typically suicidal either.  And a weed-mass-suicide is unheard of. Here in Oregon, only worms do that!

So, I’m working on theories of why weeds were extracted from their homes. And by whom. (And why did they have to leave such large holes?!) It could’ve been gnomes. Crazy, rabid children with mullets is another possibility. But mostly, I’m guessing it has to be the neighbors with the immaculate lawn habits. I’m guessing they were afraid the roots would reach to their property line. I’m assuming they thought I wouldn’t notice, or wouldn’t care. I’m also thinking maybe they’re actually Oregon State Beaver fans.

here’s a picture of where our lawns collide…

the lawn

So, do you have turf wars in your neighborhood? Are you the best groundskeeper in your zip code? What fertilizer &/or weed killer do you use? I’m thinking I may need to make peace with my neighbors via Round-Up®…

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2 thoughts on “turf wars

  1. it would be nice to think our neighbors where that thoughtful\conniving\devious\smart…life would be a never ending series of “i can’t wait to find out what happened when we were gone” moments…alas more likely this is the work of some disjointed curmudgeon neighbors who are all smiles to your face but refer to you as “those people” when your backs are turned

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