...that states that you must have a signed agreement by all parties in a neighborhood stating when mowing season starts. I mean, seriously, people. Can't we just enjoy the newly-green grass, happy dandelions, and pretty purple weedy-things? Do we have to fire up the John Deere's on the first day the grass is 1/4" too long, and massacre all the fresh spring grass??
See, here's the thing. Our mower is in the shop. Has been for two weeks. In those two weeks, we've had copious amounts of rain, intermixed with warm, sunny days - a recipe for lush, healthy grass. I noticed our grass was longish, and was amused. I really enjoy seeing the wind blow the grass, and when it's nice and trim, that doesn't happen.
But then our neighbors mowed. And then the other neighbors mowed.
And now I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that we are That Yard. The one that looks unkempt and bedraggled. The one that's overgrown and weedy. The one that looks like it could feed a small flock of goats. Yes, what just a few days ago was a sign of spring, a pleasent green shag carpeting of chlorophyll-y goodness, is now a bit of a disgrace.
It didn't look nearly so bad until our neighbors mowed, and showed exactly how tall our grass really is. (See, it's all their fault. If we had come to an agreement beforehand, none of this would be an issue...)
We're waiting anxiously for a report on the mower. James is even planning to take off work when they let us know it's ready, so that we can pick it up and use it. This poor mower has been in hard use for seven years, and it's the first time we've had it worked on, so it's not the poor mower's fault.
But still. We're apparently waiting for a spring to arrive, at which time the mechanics will replace said spring and all will be well.
Please hurry, Mr. UPS Man. Deliver the spring, and free us from our jungle of a yard!