As a city boy growing up, I never had a lot of opportunities to learn how to grow much of anything. My mother enjoyed her little window planter boxes and filling the apartment up with low-sunlight plants, but for the most part my experience with gardening was looking at the landscapers work at the park as I walked past on my way to or from school.
This trend continued well into adulthood – when we first started touring, I basically lived out of our van or, occasionally when we could afford to splurge a little, a hotel. At that point, my experience with gardening was limited to watching rows upon rows of corn flying past the widow as we drove yet again through the Midwest.
It wasn’t until I was well into my 30’s that I was actually able to afford property. With the usual gusto I put into things, I bought a nice ride-mower so I could get the full experience of weekly lawn care as a productive member of society and my community.
Safe to say, that energy lasted about three months until I was absolutely sick of it. It started off with the random patches of grass that died off and just absolutely refused to come back to life no matter what I or my nice neighbors did to coax it back to the land of the living. After that came the gophers and the little rodent massacre I perpetrated on my own property, which still gives me nightmares.
Problems kept on popping up, and soon my mind became consumed with how to get my lawn back into perfect working order. My (now) ex-wife became concerned as I didn’t pick up an instrument for weeks at a time, instead working outside with a little planter’s shovel plucking out weeds.
Within 3 months, I was burnt out. I couldn’t look at the grass without feeling sick, sickened at my own failure and sickened at the grass for conspiring against me. We began paying for a landscaper to come, but by then it was too late to save my appreciation for a well-manicured lawn.
As the years wore on, I must have spent tens of thousands of dollars on keeping that damn grass alive, with the various treatments and number of landscapers I’ve had working on my various properties. If someone had told me sooner that there were viable alternatives to natural turf, I would have switched in a second.
Luckily for me and all my future endeavors, I discovered that the artificial stuff has been getting some very major upgrades since my childhood getting rubber burns on the football field. Synthetic turf gives you the beautiful vibrant green of a natural grass yard, but takes only a fraction of the time, effort, and money you’d use keeping that stupid living carpet alive.
If you’re in southern California and looking to get rid of the lawn like I was, give NoMow Turf a call. They hooked me up with some very excellent turf installations, and they can do the same for you.
26674 Vista Terrace, Lake Forest, CA 92630