Food not lawns!

What sound does a lawn mower make early on a Wednesday afternoon? It screams the sound of a snotty guilt trip. It must be nice to be retired and have nothing better to do than to keep up your lawn with such determination you may as well insure it. I do not pass judgment on those who tend to their yard, nor do I have any disdain for the art of landscaping. I do however get rather annoyed at those who use gallons and gallons of water and chemicals to keep up an endless expanse of grass only to cut it every three days. Fertilize, water, cut...repeat, repeat, repeat. I do not choose to do this. Yes, my lawn is terribly overgrown and we plan to do away with most of the grass altogether and make another attempt at raised boxes for a garden, lay gravel and put up a gazebo, but babies are demanding bosses and they do not suffer from overgrown weeds, therefore I am tabling the yard for now. This does not please my neighbors, most of whom are retired and no longer have sex, so instead they make love to their lawns and expect the whole world to have the same priorities.

As long as I have unsustainable life in my yard I am ceasing all care. I refuse to make any attempts at bringing the kiwi plant back, and there isn't a chance in hell you'll see me fertilizing anything. If a plant cannot thrive in this natural environment without my assistance and does not provide some sort of service such as food, shade or nectar, it will be replaced with a regionally sustainable plant life. Most of our neighbors do not see the value in this philosophy. One neighbor however, is on the same page and his car sports a clever bumper sticker that reads, FOOD NOT LAWNS. Oh, if only we had a goat.