Mulch Ado About Nothing

Mowing the lawn is a process for me.  With a little electric mower that has a tiny little deck, it can take me several hours to mow my expansive yard.  So it was no surprise to me that it was nearing dusk the other night and I was still out finishing the job.

My neighbor was out the other night too, mowing on her large zero-turn radius mower.  She had probably finished the job within twenty-minutes, then spent some time puttering in her driveway.  She is an elderly woman who lives alone with her dog, a little collie mix.  I’ve never seen any visitors to the house.  And since the dog is always running free about the neighborhood, I am willing to bet he has a more active social life than she.

In spite of the time involved, one of the many things I like about my mower is the bag attachment that collects grass clippings which I use to mulch around my yard, compost and fill in holes.  I was in the process of emptying the bag and spreading it around when my neighbor approached me the other day for the first time. 

I saw her dog cross over into my yard first.  At first, I thought she was going to shoo him back home-which would be a first.  Normally, I have to acknowledge the pup and tell him to scoot on home but the woman merely walked past her pet to engage me.  Assuming a deliberate stance, she put her hands on her hips and asked me if I knew there was a drain under my house.

I should hope so, I said, taking note that she didn’t introduce herself.  Being the first time we had ever met, I noticed that was missing from our exchange.  There was no time for me to correct this though, she was off and running.

There was, she said.  She said she lived in that same house when the former owners of my property lived here and they needed to get special permission from the city to put in their driveway.

At this point, I feel it’s fair to explain that there is a drainage system under my lawn.  It is routed along the buildings and draws water away from the gutters and farther out into the lawn where the ends are buried.  The system is made up of PVC plastic-the same kind you can find at Lowes or Home Depot, and over time has become perforated from age and being struck repeatedly by a lawn mower.  It serves a purpose of diffusing water as it enters the ground but doesn’t carry it anywhere close to a drain.  But she was speaking with so much excitement, I couldn’t bring myself to say anything. 

In hindsight, perhaps I should have for she went on to comment that there were drains all through my property and around the perimeter as well-and that my grass clippings were clogging them, leading to her yard becoming flooded with the next rain. 

I don’t want you to think that I didn’t care what the woman had to say or that I wasn’t aware (if not sensitive) to her concerns.  She did take the time to come over and speak to me about this.  But the fact is that the drains she was worried about me bunging up don’t exist and so I gently pointed out to her that the only thing on the edge of my yard were a couple ditches and that as they are a couple feet deep, she was in no danger from my yard waste. 

She seemed less than convinced, and dare I say a little impatient with my disagreement.  It’s true, she insisted, those grass clippings were already clogging the (non-existent) drain.  And what’s more, it was against city ordinance to put them there.

Now, I have covered my local city council meetings for years and during that time, I have learned a couple things.  One is that it is illegal in my town to blow your grass clippings into the street-not into your yard.  Second is that my increasingly annoyed neighbor hasn’t set foot in a city council meeting in at least five years.  In a moment of Christian charity, I decided to remind her of the first.

But they could still make rain run into her yard, she insisted. 

I tried to explain to her that my efforts were actually in an effort to improve the soil around my yard, not to harm it.  By adding the additional material, I was working on firming up the clay under my lawn, allowing it to prevent the kind of run-off she feared.  It had been a problem for me too, I added.  When the yard was wet, it was impossible to park over there and the ruts were not helping.

Well that wasn’t a problem until I started parking in my lawn, she said-hands on hips with a satisfied told-you-so smile. 

Well, it was my lawn so I could do as I liked, I replied.

Still, she said, the yard and the ditches were too close to the drains and there was always a possibility that they could be clogged with my mulch.

Seeing this was going nowhere, I made a concession.  I promised not to put any grass clippings in the drain under my driveway.

She was pleased with her victory.  To my surprise, she smiled, thanked me and left-never once hearing a word I had to say. 

I suppose I will have to scrap those plans to dig a mulch-tunnel under the drive!

I’m Jennifer Beck and I’m Jenuinely Jennifer

Writer, Researcher and avant gardner!