Mowing the Lawn, Cutting the Grass, It's All a Pain in the . . .

My ex-husband is a "plantsman."  As such, he was in charge of most of the outdoors stuff during our marriage.  He brought home dozens of one-of-a-kind viburnums, rhododendrons, and maples. He designed the walkways and put up our pergola.  He mowed the lawn.  His goal was to one day have the "Carolina Arboretum." 

I was more than happy to leave the yard work to him.  I enjoy a gorgeous yard, but maintaining it is, well, work.  In recent weeks I have been given that responsibility, and I'm finding it both fun and a pain in the . . . well, you know. 

The fun part is that I get to make all the decisions.  (I am realizing I can be a bit of a control freak, so having authority over unimportant parts of my life sometimes gives me great pleasure!)  And I get to dig in the dirt.  And add color to barren places.  And find a babysitter to watch the kids while I mow the lawn for 2 hours and get flushed and winded and gain a blister on my middle finger and realize I have at least 2 hours more to go to actually make the whole property look good. 

There are many reasons why the lawn takes so long.  The first is just sheer size.  We have three acres, two of which are mostly open.  I say mostly because, well, did I mention my ex is a plantsman?  Over the past 7 years he has probably brought in over a hundred different plants.  Dozens of these are trees or large bushes. 

Now I like trees.  I like large bushes.  What I don't like is mowing around trees and large bushes.  Some people are smarter than I, and they mulch.  (This gives a lovely large circle around which you can mow without damaging the bark of the trees and killing them.)  I, however, do not like to mulch.  So I don't.  Maybe by the end of this year I will.

The other issue with our yard is that it is chock-full of nooks and crannies.  Small, unevenly-shaped nooks and crannies, usually stuck behind a tree or large bush.  I find myself going back and forth a million times . . . kind of like when I try to parallel park my Subaru Outback in the city. 

While I have to say I appreciate the exercise I get while manhandling my push mower, I don't appreciate the mental agony I suffer as my perfectionist streak screams "Get closer . . . you missed a spot and it looks ragged!" and my plant preservationist side howls, "Don't skin the cute little tri-colored Japanese maple!"  Neither side is ever satisfied. 

To resolve this problem, I have come to a decision.  No, I'm not hiring someone to do it for me.  (Although, again, maybe by the end of this year I will!) 

I'm planting ground cover.  Lots of ground cover.  The invasive, out-of-control kind that chokes out smaller, more attractive specimen.  Oh yeah!  No more mowing for me!  (I'll leave the pasture to grass . . . I'll need it if I ever actually implement my sheep plan . . . ask me about it sometime!) 

I've already begun, too.  I have some gorgeous purple phlox--I love phlox!--growing by our walkway.  Actually, they are now growing mostly in our walkway.  So, to kill two proverbial birds with one stone, I have begun cutting sections out of the walkway and transplanting them to unsightly places that will need mowing or other forms of maintenance. 

One day I accidentally broke a hen off my hen and chicks . . . yup, transplanted that. 

Then I noticed that the fastest-moving ground cover of all--sedum (of which I have nearly a half dozen different varieties)--had jumped its bounds into another walkway.  Bye-bye, sedum!  Welcome to your new home. 

I even indoctrinated my kids.  Today the three of us were in the garden doing the following necessary tasks:

1. Identifying rogue ground cover
2. Carefully extracting said ground cover (which my 4-year old son does surprisingly well, I must say!)
3. Transplanting and watering it in
4. Pulling up Norway maple saplings  (I will blog on that topic some other day!)  

We're starting small right now, covering bare spots in the perennial beds and starting on the hardest-to-mow spots.  But I'll tell you, I've got plans.  There's an 8'x2' stretch of nothing (more or less; guesstimating area is NOT my strong suit!) between two fences and under the gargantuan Norway maple that served as a junk wood repository in my ex's tenure.  I thought that looked sloppy, so I cleaned it up.  Now I understand the method in his madness.  Instead of a mess of wood, it is now a mess of saplings.  (Again . . . another day.)

Therefore, I am in search of the perfect ground cover.  It should be tallish . . . 1-2 feet . . . drought and shade tolerant (as it's under the water-sucking Norway), virulent (because it needs to out-compete the Norway saplings), and preferably pretty.  We have some Solomon's Seal in an adjoining area, and that is along the right road, but I would like something different.  Variety is the spice of life, you know! 

Once that is complete, I have whole blocks I plan to put to short ground cover . . . like those violets that take over the world but look so pretty and even choke out all the grasses so I'll never have to mow again, but will always have a carpet of loveliness. 

Ahhh!  That will be heavenly!