Some people get really hung up on image, whether personal or professional.  If you have teenage kids, you know what I mean.  I am generally secure enough to avoid that, but do admit to having one image to uphold.  You can't be the TurfNet guy and have a lousy lawn.

 

While all of our neighbors hire out their lawn maintenance, I stubbornly resist.  Not only is it good exercise, but it's good for the mind.  I do much of my best thinking while mowing the lawn, and the smell keeps me connected to my craft.  I wouldn't feel right watching someone else do it.

 

As the season winds down and winter approaches, I like to bring the height of cut down a bit, partly because the leaves from my neighbors' trees don't stick as much.  They just blow on by and stick to my other neighbor's lawn.

 

But this year, the lower heights of late September exposed an ugly underbelly of the turf.  A little dead stuff here, some brown stuff there.  Even my wife noticed, and commented.  That did it.

 

At my first opportunity I went out and rented a flail-type dethatcher.  After about four passes, leaving a 4" deep layer of thatch and dead grass in my wake, I was stopped by the old man who walks his dog by here each morning.  "What in the hell are you doing?  You have the best lawn within five miles, and you're tearing it up!" 

 

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I was stopped by the old man who walks his dog by here each morning.  "What in the hell are you doing?  You have the best lawn within five miles, and you're tearing it up!" 

 

"Trust me", I said, with a lump in my throat.  "The best time for surgery is when you're healthy.  Check back in two weeks and you won't know I ever did it."  But I found myself needing reassurance as well.

 

On I went, back and forth, over the acre of turf here at the TurfNet World Headquarters, making a monumental mess.  I scalped the remains down to an inch, and then had to clean it all up.  Mountains of it.  Three days worth.  The place looked like hell warmed over.  I applied some winter blend fertilizer and hoped for the best.

 

When my wife got home from work she echoed the old man's comments.  Time for me to shift the blame.  "Uh, don't you remember your suggestion that I get rid of that brown stuff?"  Of course she didn't think it would look like THAT...

 

"Trust me.  Just give it a couple of weeks."  Gulp.

 

Then the warm weather and timely rains stopped cold.  Nighttime temps dropped to the mid-30s.  I looked upon my neighbors' lush lawns with envy as mine sat there, cold and ugly, surely destined to be so the entire winter long.  Cars slowed as they passed.  People stared.  I knew they were wondering what in the hell that guy did to his lawn.

 

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I looked upon my neighbors' lush lawns with envy as mine sat there, cold and ugly, surely destined to be so the entire winter long. 

 

But when the going gets tough, the tough put it in gear.  I fired up the irrigation system that sat unused this wet summer.  And I figured another 3/4 lb. of N wouldn't hurt either, so on it went.  Very quietly.

 

"The grass isn't growing much," I was reminded each evening.  Trust me.

 

After a nervous week the weather warmed again and the turf showed signs of life.  I pumped on the water at night, my fingers crossed.  Ugly gradually turned green.  The first mowing revealed hope and promise.  A beautiful Indian Summer fell over us in October, and I could hear the turf thickening.

 

As the first frosts came, the neighbors' lawns suddenly looked a bit shabby in comparison.  Theirs had brown stuff in it.  Mine was pure, thick and green.

 

And even now, in mid-winter, when cars slow down as they pass by, I can't help but think they are still staring and wondering, "What in the hell did that guy do to his lawn?"