Five times a year, a guy driving a white truck pulls into my driveway and spends 20 minutes dumping fertilizer on my lawn. His final appearance of 2018 came last week, the “winterizing” treatment as he called it.
“You need to mow it one more time,” he said, as he packed up the remainder of whatever chemicals I was now standing on. “Helps feed the roots.”
Flakes of the white stuff were falling on both of us. “So, I should push the mower right through the snow?” I asked.
“I hear it’s supposed to be 60 later this week,” he replied. “Do it then. Just make sure there’s no rain in the forecast for 48 hours afterward. Otherwise, what I just did is useless.”
Welcome to November, the most confounding month for those who reside in climates that actually feature four seasons. All you sissies who retreated to year-round warm weather environs, you may stop reading if you wish. Go winterize your own homes. In other words, close the screens on your porch halfway.
November is when my lawn mower AND my snow blower fight for real estate in my garage. One of them should be in the basement. Or the shed, if I had one. I’ve always been slightly envious of neighbors with backyard sheds, for it seems like such a convenient place to deposit … whatever. Pruning tools, patio furniture, passed out party guests; just drag them all to the shed and worry about them later.
The mower does a fine job of pulverizing fall leaves, many of which still stubbornly cling to my backyard trees. So I should keep it gassed up and oiled, right? Meanwhile, my suburban Chicago residence narrowly missed a snowstorm that recently slammed New York City and Philadelphia. How bad was it? Commuters were posting tweets complaining about crowd sizes at the Port Authority bus terminal, as if hordes of zombie-like individuals waiting to board a Greyhound bus was something never seen before.
I might not be so lucky next week, as snow is forecast for my area, shortly after those 60-degree temps. Which means my snow blower had better be ready. Do you see my conundrum?
My bedroom closet is the indoor version of my garage. Twice a year, I make the clothing switch; I move sweaters and sweatshirts to the lower, more accessible shelves in late fall and replace them with shorts and T-shirts in spring. But each year I find this “reorg,” to use a corporate term, takes place too soon. There have been years where I’ve walked my dog in early December wearing flip-flops. And May days when I’ve donned gloves before venturing outside.
I’m determined to heed the fertilizer guy’s advice and cut the grass one more time, as a healthy green lawn in spring has become one of life’s priorities. Especially now that I don’t think I’m ever going to own a shed. I have spent freezing Saturdays in past years doing just this, saving the rest of the weekend for more weather appropriate activities. Putting up Christmas lights, for example. Naturally, I’m out of recyclable bags to hold the grass clippings and leaves; so I’ll venture to my hardware store to pick up some more. The last time I purchased lawn bags, it was July and 90-plus degrees.
Meanwhile, that same hardware store is having a sale on ice melting salt. I’d better pick up a few bags, as I would hate to slip on my driveway after mowing the lawn. But wait, what’s this? A section of seasonal closeout items, at 50 percent off? Might as well pick up a new patio umbrella to ward off the blazing heat.
After all, summer could be just around the corner.
