Grass Time

Planted grass the other day.  Turned the soil, added nutrients, spread the seed, watered.  Where’s the grass?  Seriously, WHERE IS THE GRASS!

I thought about calling the grass seed company; however, I know that they would just patronize me --  say something like,   Be patient.  Give it time!

Patience? Give it time?  

Damn, didn’t I learn anything in freshman Biology — other than my lab partner Tony had a huge crush on Shelly (who didn’t) who sat in front of us?

Okay, back to the grass.  I do remember planting something in little paper cups and spending weeks observing.  Watering.  Observing.  Nurturing. Observing.  The ecstasy of actually seeing something starting to sprout and blossom (sort of like the courtship of Tony and Shelly).   It was all a mystery. 

Today, sitting around in the Quarantine classroom, it's still all a mystery. 


Question: If I were to start a landscaping company, what would be a good tag line?

“No job is done until we say it is”
“Our customers are so happy with our complete work that they tell us we need not come back - ever!”
“It may not look better, but it looks different!”
“Sure you can get better service, but you won’t pay more!”
“Our work looks sort of okay from Google Earth”
“Your neighbors will ask, "Who the hell did that to your lawn?”
And an idea from my friend Jim:  "The grass is always greener on the other side -- because it is!"

Maybe, while we all have downtime to let the grass grow under our feet, it’s a reminder that the world right now doesn't so much need judgment as it does patience.  After all, it is how it is and not how I believe it should be. 

True, I  can’t rush the tiny seeds in the paper cup -- or planted in my lawn.   But, I can work at being patient and giving it time.

After all, time is a pretty great gift.

Carpe diem Life,
David Kuhn