Green, green grass of home...

As we start week three of isolation, the husband is in the final throes of a whole wheelbarrow full of attention which has been lavished on the lawn. 

Our lawn has never looked lovely since the day we moved in fourteen years ago, and over the years has been subjected to scarification, aeration, weedkiller, feed and seed and enough watering to give Noah cause for concern.  Despite all this 5* love, the lawn has continued to look rather threadbare, so the husband has given it all of his love over the past three weeks.

So now, instead of having a rather shabby lawn, I now have no lawn at all.  It would appear that the only thing making my lawn look green was the fuzzy moss holding hands.  Remove that (with an industrial strength scarifier) and all I am left with is a rather patchy version of the Somme, with scattered bald patches.

These have been sprinkled with grass seed, which to date doesn't seem to be doing anything like the picture on the box.  In fact it looks like someone has made a rather strange chocolate ice cream sundae with my back garden and covered it with fancy sprinkles

'Has the seed actually taken?' I asked the husband yesterday.  Supervising from my sun lounger (located in a sunny but paved area of the garden), I thought that the bald spots seem to be receding, so perhaps it had.

The husband got down on his hands and knees to do a proper inspection.  'I don't think so', he said.  'It's all still lying on top of the lawn'.  I did want to correct him at this point that the brown circles of mud can't be called lawn as they are, well, mud, but I'm not one to shoot a man while he's down.

I did come up with a very helpful suggestion though...

'I've got an idea.  Why don't you let the grass that we do have grow really long, and then we can give the bald bits some comb-over green'..

Ladies, he wasn't impressed, and got his sprinkler out for the third time this weekend...