My lawn's in pretty bad
shape so I called Lawn Doctor. Guess what? Lawn Doctor doesn't make yard calls.
He did send out Yard Nurse.
You could tell she knew her business. She smelled like fertilizer.
Her hair looked like peat moss.
She was chewing on a rock.
I decided to stand on the front porch.
She took the grass's temperature.
She did a root scan.
Biopsied some weeds.
Sure enough, my worst fears were confirmed. My crabgrass is malignant.
She gave me the phone number for Lawn Mortician.
And God
said, "Man has become too smug and sedentary." And He created fire ants.
Talk about
high-tech! My new lawn mower not only mulches and is self-propelled -- it starts!
Lawn mowing is the perfect
job for men--since they're used to going around in circles.
If I could only grow green
stuff in my garden like I can in my refrigerator.
I've never won Yard of the Month, but once I did win Weed of the Week.
