Our house is a very, very fine house

All I can see in this photo is our spotty dead lawn.

If you know anything about me and my family and our lives in the last six years, you know that our hate for our last house is well documented. I won't go into it here (you can read more here) but I mention it only because anything I could say that I hate about our current house is nothing compared to the mold demons, plumbing gremlins, and other supernatural forces we battled for four and half years at 710 E 3950 N in Provo. We would have probably burned it down to cleanse it if we hadn't finally found a buyer.

You might even say it would be blaspheme to even mention that I am in any way dissatisfied with our current home of two years. Because I love our house.

But. We have a little roof leak that only acts up in the winter. I'd like to fix that. I'd love to have the 6 ft tall window replaced. The heat cracked it because I left the 1000 degree BBQ grill next to it for too long (read: at all). Little annoyances compared to the old house.

But. Seriously. I hate our yard.

Here's a confession. It's probably my fault. Maybe when we moved in, if I had the money to fix the automatic sprinkler system, I could have salvaged the sparsely seeded lawn. I could have used a hose to water, weeded more frequently, fertilized, nurtured, aerated, and so on. But I didn't. When we moved in the lawn was dead. And the following spring I got really excited for a month to resurrect it. I tried the standard things and, for a second, they worked. But, sweet Odin's raven, I could not get the sprinklers to work the right way or on time. And I didn't have the energy to come home from work every day and move the hose around like some hose-mover person. So, by July it was dead. It's been dead by July every year.

It is the ugliest yard in five square miles.

"Wah. Just be more like Chris Clark. Haven't you seen his lawn?" I have. I love it. It feels like silken strands of heaven when you touch it. He works hard to keep it that way. But I'm pretty sure his sprinklers work and if they didn't he'd probably know how to fix them. So, while I'd love to have his yard, I need to take baby steps. First, learn to fix the sprinklers, second, fix them, third, tear out all the grass and re-sod, fourth, water and care for the lawn into celestial glory.

We have plans for the yard. We'll get there. But it's probably more fitting that we fix the leak and the crack first. Until then, it will sit there, dead, and spraying thistle and dandelion seeds onto everyone else's yards. Sorry, Edgemont!