Here’s My LawN Order

   In my back yard there are two forces at work; the seeds to promote growth and forces of evil trying to stop it.  This is my story!  (I hope I don't suffer any PUN-ative damages for the following.)

   In the over 26 years I have lived on Long Island (a bit longer than the television pretender of a similar name) I have had several people on the job attempting to weed out the criminal growths that are strangling my shrubs.

   I employ various environmentally safe chemicals to guard the borders around my flower beds but victory is fleeting.

   I want my yard healthy and my trees free to provide life, liberty and allow me my pursuit of shade!

   For some reason this seems to be an impossibility.  Yet I continue to throw good money after bad.

   It’s a crime, one that would stump a St. Bernard and is making me Lupo.

   The old saying that the grass is greener on the other side of the fence happens to be true in my case.

   Many years ago I took out a contract with a local business man to provide my back yard with greenery.  He planted sickly bushes that lasted just over one year.  When I noticed one of them lapsing into a coma I requested a replacement.  The patriarch Don of the company investigated and claimed, “She’s a no dead!”

   But his lying under oath did not change the fact that the corpse in question was a victim of his crime.  And the mass murder was complete when its three relatives joined it and I was left with a barren yard.

   To prevent further damage the Don offered me protection from similar mishaps but I bravely declined.

   Since then I have had little luck back there. I would almost prefer to have a Crag en my yard so I wouldn’t bother any more.

   Many times I have tried to cut down offensive growths in an endless battle that always ends in my pain and suffering.

   Last season I planted a tiny bush in the back end of my yard but it suffered the indignity of being ripped from the hedge lines by a gardener mistaking it for a weed.  I could almost hear his Lenny Briscoe voice policing either the front Orbach area saying, “Nobody puts baby in the corner!”

   I’m sure there was no Criminal Intent on his part but the young Special Victim is nevertheless gone forever.

   When I pointed to the evidence, an empty dead spot where once a life existed the guilty Bratt clammed up.

   The mystery that keeps turning my bushes into Stone is as insidious as a plot by Moriarty involving a Borgia-like rule of corruption.

   My yard has a Serene Southerlyn exposure that is better than a Wiest one where many a Branch grows tall but only for a season or so.

   Sometimes I hear the sweet baby voice of a Robinette or a fleeting Falcon on high.

   I have yet to have luck with any red Ruby Rosas although my neighbors grow them all the time.

   Blindly I Water Stone hoping the real McCoy will grow; hoping I'll Detect Green.

   It is driving me into a bottle of Hennessey.

   Where do I go from here?  Should I Schiff my efforts to another Hill?

   Will each summer be an endless rerun of seasons gone by?

   Should I place a new LawN Order or will my old LawN Order come back next year?

   For better or worse I still love it and hope it returns in Prime Time for me.

   And so I cling to my blankie like Linus and continue to be a Cutter of weeds till the Wolf is at the door and I hear the final “Doink Doink.”


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