I get asked from time to time how I manage to juggle a myriad of professional responsibilities and personal hobbies -- and some activities that are a meld of the two.
When I throw it all into a bowl -- blogging, cooking, cycling, golfing, working, commuting, networking, parenting, coaching, reading, minor home repairs, plus some social media indulgence via Twitter and Facebook -- it is a small wonder that I find time for half of those things.
When asked how I do it, I usually borrow the line from a former colleague that I'll sleep when I'm dead. While true, that answer is just a deflection. I have no earthly idea how I accomplish all of that. My belief has always been that I just do it.
Today, though, the real secret revealed itself to me in a cloud of dust. I have time to do all of those other things in part because I neglect my lawn.
I was mowing the front yard today, and I noticed the only things growing are weeds. All of the grass is dead or dying.
I have excuses. There's been very little rain the last few weeks, and it has been hotter than normal. I've run the sprinkler, but not enough. But let's be honest. I don't fertilize. I don't spread weed killer. I don't mow with any regularity. I barely rake in the fall.
I've tried justifying it to myself by playing the natural card. I'm not harming the environment with any chemicals. It's hard to grow grass in Cape Cod's sandy soil, and I should just let nature dictate the course of my lawn. I see the bees visiting our clover, because there is relatively little elsewhere in the neighborhood, and I think this is a good thing for our vegetable garden in the long run.
But then I look around the neighborhood, and realize our lawn is an outcast. It has no friends. It eats lunch by itself in the corner of the cafeteria, wishing it could be more popular, if only its parents would dress it in cooler clothes.
Never mind my personal demons. My lawn has lawn envy.
On most mornings that I am home, I walk the dog. The usual routine is to head to the park down the hill from our house, and if Ruby can't find a suitable spot, we walk over to a neighborhood of empty, languishing, waiting to be developed lots. To get there, we walk past a bunch of yards with lush, green, weed-free carpets that I have to steer Ruby away from. Even our dog has lawn envy.
I see how the other half lives, with their sprinkler systems and proper grass selection. I see them spreading Scotts Turfbuilder in the spring, and taking care of business in the fall by raking frequently, thatching or aerating, and spreading seed to fill any bare patches.
And so I realized today that I accomplish all that I do across a variety of disciplines because I am undisciplined with my landscaping.
So anyone who is thinking that I have it all and am immensely successful in all areas of life should come drive by Commuter Daddy Central. There's always a skeleton in the closet. Mine is my lawn.
Photo of the Day (7.31.2010)
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