Is the Grass Greener on the Other Side?

Maybe spring is here? Each time I think about planting fragile seedlings we get frost warnings. I will wait a few days before I do anything drastic, just to make sure.

Though I haven't done much, I have certainly been thinking about gardening. I have decided that our house would look so much more "us" on the outside if we ditched the expanse of lawn with mulch-and-bushes landscaping along the front that was in place when we bought the house. I have been plotting ways to create a slightly wild cottage-type garden instead. This summer I will wait and see how the beds on the side fare against the deer. Biscuit may get a "summer home" to sleep in out there...

We have not failed to notice that our neighbors have velvety, weedless, perfect lawns. Immaculately sculpted shrubs. Impeccably mulched beds. While Jeff and I aren't anxious to jump on this bandwagon, we have felt a little - shabby. Our grass is thin and weedy. We're both pretty against spraying weed killer all over. We aren't about to start watering or obsessing. But we don't want to be the eyesore either.

As I was driving home and admiring everyone's yards, I suddenly began noticing that the neighbors with kids do not have perfect yards. It's mostly the people who do not have children living in their homes that have amazingly kept property. I began to realize that the people always putting around plucking weeds and trimming walks are not parents of school-age children. (Nor do many of those folks have dogs).

And then I started thinking about all the things I wish I had either time or money for, besides gardening. Reading novels. Traveling. Eating out. Having a neat house. Things that in time, I will probably get to. When the kids are grown and out of the house.

I started thinking about my neighbors in a different way. Maybe they aren't judging us. Maybe they look over and wish they still had little ones picking forbidden flowers or forgetting to pick up toys? Maybe not, but I know in my heart that someday I will miss that. Now all I crave is an hour of luxury to myself, but I know there will come a day when all I have are hours to myself. If I were one of those neighbors, I might feel a little wistful for days gone by, watching kids run around our yard, or the car constantly backing out of the driveway with kids dressed in karate or soccer uniforms or lugging instruments. They might get a kick out of watching Jeff play beat the clock as he rushes to get the lawn mowed after work and before the evening's other activities, or me stealing a few minutes after a run to pull a few unruly weeds before one of my family members spots me and needs me, because they remember those days of their lives.

Their grass is definitely, literally greener, though.