Plants Have Feelings, Too

The evolution of our grass situation has been 10 years in the making. In our first house, there were a lot of trees in the yard and a complete forest in the back. Not a single blade of grass grew back there until we had 6 trees removed, stumps and roots removed, tilled, seeded, spread hay and lugged sprinklers and hoses all around. It was a TON of work, but we finally got a pretty good looking back yard. That yard was fescue grass which loved our shade and the cooler spring and fall temperatures. In the summer, it would fry. Eventually, Jason grew tired of moving hoses and sprinklers and longed for the day when he'd have that in ground irrigation system.


Fast forward to our current house - no trees or shade, but he now had his irrigation system. So we opted for fescue again, thinking that we could just water it a ton in the summer and it would survive even without shade. Because this yard was sodded, it was looking pretty good from the beginning.


All good things seem to come to an end, and before long the battle began. Through the next 3 years, we fought grubs, fungus, drought, native bermuda grass and over-zealous grass fertilization companies. We spent a fortune on treatments, watering, aerating and overseeding, weed pulling and professional fertilizing. Things would look pretty good during peak fall/spring fescue season, but it seemed like we were always starting from scratch in the fall with a full aerate and over-seed. Too say the least, it was frustrating.

The 2010 season started in the same way. Spring: grass looks like a rock star, thick and lush and dark green. Early summer: the monsoon starts, and combined with some overzealous fertilizing by our lawn service, we ended up with a massive case of fungus. It really looked like aliens visited us and left crop circles in our back yard. Late summer: rain disappears for weeks at a time. The grass scorches and dies out, and my water bill sees levels that would make anyone sick. Finally the day comes, Jason is done. Done with fescue and all it's high maintenance, and he is calculating his next move. He's leaning towards Bermuda grass, which we are not big fans of it's spreading nature, but it make the most sense because of the lack of shade and hot weather. So in mid-August, Jason turns off the sprinklers and tells the fescue good-bye. Time to die, and we'll take another path in the spring.

August 14th - struggling, but hanging in there

Late in August, we head down to the lake for a weekend away and return to a shock. The grass is dead. Every.single.blade. It was like something came through with a flame thrower and killed every spec of grass we had. Could the grass know what we were plotting? And out of spite, did it kill itself to punish us with razor sharp, dead prickles that would stay until spring? It was nothing short of bizarre.

August 30th - Dead. Same exact photo spot as Aug. 14th

One evening, still pondering the instantaneous dead grass syndrome, Jason was out in the yard with the dog before bed when he thought he heard... chirping. He runs in for a zip lock back and returns with some moth like creatures squirming around in the bag. After 15 minutes of googling, he declares the diagnosis: Army Worms. These vultures can kill your entire yard in a matter of days. Dead. Gone. And it was over, the grass had shown us who was really in charge. Because, you know, you can't bite the hand that feeds you. Plants, including our grass, have feelings, too, that need to be considered. And all that bad mouthing finally went too far.

Now I will say that Jason is not one to make decisions easily. Every choice has to be carefully researched to the fullest extent, and here we were faced with the end of the warm weather grass season with the window of opportunity closing up on us with an entire yard of dead grass skeletal remains. Landscapers were highly against seeding Bermuda (sod was recommended) and Jason was still struggling with the nature of Bermuda, and really wanted another grass that was only offered in sod form, but was more costly although tolerant to the drought, bugs and sun. Once he found out that sod was the logical path forward, he sprang into research mode and came to a decision: Zoysia it was, and it was going in on Friday. During his moment of decision making weakness, I threw in the request for a garden box with success! The grass and box were installed the following week. And all is now calm in the Verrett yard.