I came from one of those suburban Detroit neighborhoods where everyone had sod and landscaping and the lawns all ran together. My dad was so proud of his green "Bolens" lawnmower that when he bought it downtown Plymouth he talked about it like it was part of our family. Maintaining the lawn was a family project...I got to use the hand clippers to cut the grass around the black trim of our landscaping....and because of my not-so-fond memories of that we are the pround owners of a string trimmer.
I can also remember when my best friend Katie moved into a new house and her and I got recruited to help lay sod. Those little compact wound up rolls of sod look so innocent but they weigh a freakin' ton and we did a lot of hard work only to be rewarded with money and a free ride to the Canton Cinema 6...the tickets then were only about $4.50...so it seems like the joke was on us.
The way us Northern Michigan folk do our lawn sends people like my parents into fits...as soon as they pull down Strohm Road they start to twitch because we live on a street of people without sod, the Chemlawn man or "the blight." "The blight" was scientific(? ) name for the lawn disease the trusty Chemlawn man spread from lawn to lawn and from my dad's reaction when we got it -- some lawn nuts might compare it to terminal cancer (okay slight exaggeration but you get the idea).
Anyway, I highly recommend insta-grass with a wash out gua-ran-tee because it has been exactly 1 week and 3 days since the toxic turquoise chemical was sprayed on our lawn and from the neighbors yard, it's starting to look pretty damn good.
xo -- B.M.
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