DEATH OF A PARK

Taken July 29, 2016 - 2:00 p.m. - one of the main parking areas
for the Innisfil Beach Cruisers weekly event

Four years ago, attracted to Lake Simcoe’s shorelines and the serenity of Innisfil Beach Park, I moved to Innisfil from the GTA. After settling here, I frequently went to Innisfil Beach Park to walk, and enjoy its glorious tranquility. But things changed quickly and my enjoyment of the park didn’t last long. I believe that sometime around 2014, Innisfil Town Council issued a mandate to make this beautiful park the “hub” of Innisfil’s community.

That’s about the time The Innisfil Beach Cruisers car club (a private interest group) began using the park for their weekly meetings, in their current location. Beginning in May, every Thursday night for 20+ weeks, club members drive numerous vehicles (sometimes more than 125) onto a path intended for pedestrians and bicyclists.   After driving up the walkway, club members park their vehicles along the turf areas, abutting the path. When the club activity is finished, they drive back down the pedestrian path.  Traffic jams are the norm, since all the vehicles are leaving at the same time.

Concerned that this irregular park usage seems to be creating a lot of problems, I met with Jason Inwood, the Town’s Operations Manager, in early August 2016.  The meeting wasted my time as most of my concerns remain unaddressed. Still unresolved are questions around the health, safety and quiet enjoyment of the park for average park users and the pollution of our lake and park grounds.  There are increased costs to Innisfil taxpayers for parkland repair and maintenance and bylaw enforcement.  There is no clarity as to how the Town benefits from this particular use of the park. 

Jason Inwood had asked for a list of my concerns, so that he could be prepared for our meeting when he returned from his vacation.  It was e-mailed to him in a timely fashion but he wasn’t prepared at all.  Coincidentally, he just didn’t have time to review my questions and to this day, about 8 weeks later, has not answered most of them.  So many of the questions relate to the health and safety of the people who use the park and to the pollution of our lake and exactly just how the Town is benefitting by allowing our park to be used this way.  

Who is paying to remediate the turf areas after this private interest group is done with it?  There’s hardly any grass left in that whole area where the vehicles are allowed to park.  Has remediation ever been done? 

The negative effects of the club’s activities at their current location within Innisfil Beach Park are apparent: Vulnerable park users (the elderly, children, people using assistive devices, etc.) are inconvenienced and potentially endangered by vehicles encroaching into areas which are neither designed nor intended for them;

1)  Some club members impatiently rev their engines and/or sound their horns to intimidate pedestrians to clear the walking path as they enter and drive along it;

2)  Many club members park near the picnic pavilion, arranging vehicles right under the noses of the people trying to enjoy their meals;

People trying to enjoy their picnics 

                               


3.  Many of the club’s “vintage” vehicles spew smelly emissions and drip fluids onto the pedestrian path and turf areas, spoiling the quiet enjoyment of the park for picnic goers and other users, and polluting the ground;

4.  The traffic compacts and erodes the turf, and the grass is damaged and disappearing;Ground compaction from the vehicles parking on it damages nearby tree roots, adversely affects soil health and is conducive to soil erosion and polluted water run-off;

5.  Ground compaction from the vehicles parking on it damages nearby tree roots, adversely affects soil health and is conducive to soil erosion and polluted water run-off;

The picnickers were there first

                                                       

Notice the oil stains the geese have to walk through on their way to the lake?

             

According to the dictionary, a park is defined as: 

1. An area of land set aside for public use, as:   A piece of land with few or no buildings within or adjoining a 
town, maintained for recreational and ornamental purposes. 

In my world, that does not mean allowing 125+ vehicles to drive down a WALKING PATH every week, for 20+ weeks. 

A park IS NOT supposed to be used to trample on the rights of pedestrians, by allowing over ONE HUNDRED vehicles to be driven on it.  A few weeks ago, I was walking my dog at the park (during the private interest group’s event).  Being a dog, she has to stop many times to check things out.  I was on the path, getting close to the boat launch area, when a car, which I could clearly hear coming a mile away because of its noisy muffler system, drove up behind me on the walking path.  The driver HONKED his horn at me.  I’m assuming he wanted me to get off the WALKING PATH so he could drive further up to park his vehicle.  I spoke to the event’s organizer, Mr. Rick Winson, who seemed petulant when I told him I felt it was rude for that driver to blow his horn at me.  Pedestrians have the right of way.  Mr. Winson defended the driver by saying he was just “warning me that he was driving up behind me.”  I ask you – WHY IN THE HELL SHOULD ANY VEHICLE IN A PRIVATE INTEREST GROUP be DRIVING on a PEDESTRIAN PATHWAY in the first place, so that blowing its horn at a PEDESTRIAN IS EVEN NECESSARY? There is only ONE answer to the above – IT SHOULD NOT.

By-the-by, Mr. Winson just happens to have been on some committees with The Town’s Operations Supervisor, Nathan Robinson.  Let’s talk favouritism.  

There are many images and videos of this event, including a couple of videos which show someone using a mobility scooter, who has to get off the pedestrian path to let the vehicles go by. 

Why does this private interest group insist on holding this event on the lakeside, which necessitates driving over 125+ vehicles down a pedestrian path?  According to Nathan Robinson (Operations Department), it’s because Mr. Winson, the car club’s president and organizer, likes the lake view.

And so this private interest group’s 20+ weekly event was allowed to relocate (they used to hold the event near the tennis courts), jeopardizing the vulnerable and ruining the peace and quiet enjoyment for other park users, not to mention the ecological impact on the fragile park environment.

Signs at beginning of WALKING path

The Town Maketh The Rules
The Town Breaketh The Rules

I suggested, that since the resident’s parking lot has been changed to parking lot ‘D’, the parking lot by the snack bar (B) could now be used to hold the event.  It has all the amenities which I’m assuming the Town deems necessary to hold such an event; adequate parking and washroom facilities.  Oh and most importantly of all, according to Nathan Robinson, the view of the lake, that club organizer Mr. Winson demands. 

Parking Lot ‘B’ is ideal.  But, according to the Operations Manager, Jason Inwood, “It’s safer to drive a lot of vehicles down the path than to park in a parking lot.”  How does that even make sense?

A park is for walking, playing, picnicking, swimming, all of which we should be able to do knowing we are safe there and our health is not being compromised, along with health of our park.

   

 This is supposed to be our park, NOT a parking lot!

I find it disgraceful that a special interest group can usurp many other park user’s rights and safety, increase the taxpayer's burden, damage fragile parkland and pollute our precious watershed. The Town of Innisfil lacks the infrastructure and by-law enforcement to turn 68 acres of waterfront into The Hub of our community.

If members of the Innisfil Beach Cruisers truly respect the park as they keep stating, then how is it that they don’t realize what they are doing to our once beautiful park?  There are at least two other much more appropriate locations within the park in which they can hold their event.

Call Town Hall and voice your opinion (705-436-3710) or use the online form to express your concerns - http://www.innisfil.ca/i-want/contact-town-general-concern. According to Jason Inwood, a case file will be opened to address your concerns and staff will follow up with appropriate information.  

In the meantime, our beautiful park is dying.

Used to be a grassy area.  Now used as a parking lot for the Innisfil Beach Cruisers weekly event

Used to be a grassy area.  Now used as a parking lot for the Innisfil Beach Cruisers weekly event and a charcoal dump for lazy beach goers.

WATER RATS

This very long, so hot and dry summer brings back memories of the first summer I lived here, in the New Wild West. While I look back on it now and appreciate the novelty, at the time I was still finding my way in this unique biosphere I refer to as South Park. As the mercury in the outside thermometer creeps toward 100⁰ f, my mind drifts back to my now ex-next door neighbour, Deborah, about whom I will always remember …

Do you have a Nosy Posey living next door? I do. I would have thought that my Nosy Posey neighbour would be too busy, dashing here and there, to bother with my habits, in particular my lawn watering habit. Apparently, I’m wrong. 

Occasionally, watching the Sandycove channel (yep, we have our very own TV channel), I notice that water restrictions are in effect, using the time-honoured tradition of odd/even water usage for lawns, car washing, etc. Upon reading the monthly newsletter, I see that newly seeded/sodded lawns are exempt. Yay! I can keep my lawn alive, I hope. I try to maintain the odd/even schedule as much as possible but there is the occasional time that I water on an odd numbered day, even though I live in an even numbered house.                                         
                                                                          

Well, don’t I get a call from ‘Julie’ in the SCA admin office about watering on an odd-number day. Tsk Tsk Tsk. We have a brief chat and I refresh her that my lawn is exempt since it’s new sod. There was quite the silence after that. Then Julie mentions that maybe I could water for only 2 hours per day instead of 3. Hmmm, I think to myself, how would anyone but a Nosey Neighbour know how long I water my lawn for? I’m sure that SCA personnel have more to do with their time, than to stand in front of my house and watch my sprinkler putt its way ‘round and ‘round for three hours. Has to be a neighbour – is there a Nosey Posey living on Marlin Court? I mention to Julie that if the water pressure was better, I could probably water for a shorter time. Another silence. We end our confab with me saying that I’ll try and cut down a little. I am a conservationist at heart, especially with water (a non-renewable resource) but unless SCA gives me something in writing, stating that they’ll replace my sod when it dies for lack of water, I’ll keep on watering, odd days or not.

Sad Lawn

                                   
A few days later, my suspicions about the Nosey Posey living next door seem to be confirmed, when she jumps out at me as I’m setting up the sprinkler. She startles me, since my back is to her house. She flings open her side door so hard, it smacks into the wall behind it and out she pops. She calls me by name, her tone reminiscent of Fran Fine (from the hit TV series, The Nanny - Fran Drescher in real life) and asks me if I know that there is a watering ban. I respond and acknowledge that I’m aware of the odd/even restriction.

“No”, Deborah states with a hint of barely contained, smug ‘GOTCHA’ in her voice, “there is a TOTAL water ban”. Must be late, breaking news. Apparently, it has just been freshly posted on the SCA TV news channel and Deborah can’t wait to tell me. 

                                   
Since I don’t sit in front of my TV every waking moment to watch the SCA ‘roll-around’, how would I know?  Gently, I mention that newly seeded/sodded lawns are exempt.  The look on her face is priceless.  “Exempt”, Deborah repeats with a glassy look in her small, rat-like eyes. “Yes, exempt”, I repeat. “Oh”. Deborah says, and retreats into her house, shutting the door a lot more quietly than she opened it. 

 All the pieces start to fall into place, at least in my mind, and form, which I believe, is a rather accurate image of a

Water Rat. There always has to be at least ‘One of Those’ in every neighbourhood, doesn’t there? I wonder if Nosey Posey will be taking a walk around the Court and informing the other non-conforming residents about the water ban?

I didn’t see her out there, but later, while chatting with some of my neighbours, I voice my suspicions about having a resident Water Rat on Marlin Court. They all seemed to be shocked to hear we have ‘One of Those’ living here. From their reaction, I know that I have leapt to the correct conclusion of just who ratted me out. I feel that I should take it personally, since she lives right next door.

I hope Nosey Posey gets a life and finds something more positive to focus on besides my lawn-watering habit. In this kind of close environment, I try to follow the ‘Live and let live’ philosophy. If what your neighbour is doing is against THE PARK RULES, unless there’s a direct and harmful impact on your life, why be a tattle-tale?

The next day, I see Rich walking his dog, Sherman and I meander outside to ask him if he was going to mow my lawn today, since it’s cooled off quite a bit. Then I mention to him that I know who my Water Rat is. “Who?” he asks. “Deborah”, I reply, jerking my thumb toward her house. His caterpillar-like eyebrows shoot skyward. He then proceeds to tell me how one of his neighbours is convinced that when he turns on his water, it affects her water pressure. That’s a new one on me, but real or imagined, she has ratted out that neighbour, who is referred to as The Mayor of Marlin Court. So, it seems that we may have a whole family of Water Rats nesting on our quiet little court.

               Who you gonna call?  RAT BUSTERS!!!!

QUART III - HOW MANY BERRIES DOES IT TAKE TO FILL UP A BEAR?

  

So funny that my concern about bears hanging out in our neck of the woods is dead on.  My lips twitch into a half-smile as I remember the look Yvette and I shared when Shane told us about Baby bear having a nap in the birch tree.  It might be funnier but I can tell Shane and his dad, Sam, are really uneasy ‘cause they don’t know where Momma is. 

Yvette and I had decided I should go on ahead since I walk quite a bit faster than her and Sofie, to try and see if my car was okay.  It would be awkward to get home without it.  My spirited walking pace slows a bit as I get nearer the spot where I think Shane and Sam spotted Baby bear.  I’m not too sure exactly where Baby is, since there are a heck of lot of birch trees in these woods.  As I start around the curve in the trail, I hear a low growl.  My heart is in my throat and my breath takes a hitch … luckily it’s the silver truck inching its way down the path toward me and it’s packed to the rafters with Yvette, Sofie, and a young couple, who are all crammed into the back seat of the silver pick-up.  The winter tires have been wedged in between all the stuff in the bed and are quite secure there ‘cause there isn’t much wiggle room for them to move.

Shane’s driving now.  Dad Sam has look-out duty.  I was never so glad in my life to see that silver bullet come to a stop between me and the birch trees.  The back door flings open and everyone squishes together a little more to make room for not-so-slender me.  Sofie is panting up a storm on Yvette’s lap, spit dripping from her little pink tongue in a rivulet.  Yvette does not look too impressed with the dripping but the alternative would be worse – walking and taking her chances with Momma bear finding her on foot.

It isn’t too much further to the parking area and I heave a sigh of relief when we get within eye-sight and I can see my well-seasoned 12-year old Toyota Echo is unscathed.  Apparently Momma and Baby bear preferred the forest’s fare to the delectables in my car.  Thank goodness.  I’ve heard about people’s cars being torn apart by a determined Makwa (bear in native Algonquin).

                        

    

                                    Exactly what I’m afraid of!

We finish jouncing and bouncing our way down the trail about another half mile (about a kilometer) and finally pull into the grassy parking area.   I waste no time opening the door and all but tumble out. The young couple, who have introduced themselves as Carrie and John, locals who frequently visit The Tree Museum, heave a sigh of relief as they peel themselves out of the wedge.  Yvette manages to get the door on her side open and has a tenuous hold of Sofie as she gingerly tries to keeps from touching the side of the truck to keep her outfit clean.  I did mention that she’s a bit of a Diva, yes?  Even when fleeing from bears.

                                                                               Carrie & John

                                                              Our heroes, Sam & Shane are camera shy! 

                                                              

Finally we’re all out of the truck, stretching and searching pockets to find tissues to wipe our sweaty faces.  It’s warm today and excitement has amped up the temp, along with all the body heat generated by being wedged together in the back seat.  Now I know what a sardine feels like. We all start talking at once, as an adrenalin rush kicks in, now that we know we have out-witted the Shash (Navajo for bear).                                                                             

 As we calm down a bit, we introduce all of ourselves to each other and share a little about why, where and how we all came to be there and phew! isn’t it great to be alive?

Then, weirdly, the unmistakable haunting strains of a bagpipe drifts down the path towards us, trailing on the warm autumn air.  A preternatural calmness falls over the 6.5 of us (the half is for Sofie, The Wonder Dog), and I’m thinking in balloon words, ‘Huh?  A bagpipe?  Where is the hell is that coming from and more to the point, who in the hell is playing it?’

             

We all stare with astonishment, as a man dressed in full Scottish regalia, comes striding out of the very same trees we had just fled from, a bagpipe being pumped vigorously and belching out a melody which reminds me of the opening bars to Copperhead Road. 

   

                                            Pat The Piper

All of our mouths drop open simultaneously, our eyes riveted.  The piper realizes he has company and he takes his lips from the mouthpiece of the blow pipe and stares right back at us.  It’s a Gravenhurst stare-down!

It seems Pat (who lives in a town Down Below) arrived at The Tree Museum after Sam and Shane started bouncing their way down the trail looking for the people from two parked cars.  No one knew about Pat until we heard the music.  It turns out that he is piping at a local wedding and took some time to walk the beautiful woods and practice a little before his gig.  Maybe, just maybe, the wailing music spooked Momma and Baby and they skedaddled deeper into the forest to escape what surely was the freakiest noise they’ve ever heard.

And, hmmm, I wonder what Pat’s wearing under that beautiful kilt?

And yes, I still want to know how many berries it takes to fill up a bear, even if it’s  just a Baby bear.

DEMOCRACY IS ALIVE & WELL IN SCA – NOT!

                              

                                  

Well, my first foray into the world of political ambition was a bust!  A group of residents here in South Park, SCA, decided to organize and kick the SCA HOA’s (Sandycove Home Owners’ Association) butt.  Why?  Because the HOA decided that they would not fight Parkbridge’s filing for an Above Guideline Increase (AGI) by filing an appeal at the Landlord & Tenant Board.  Why?  Because apparently Parkbridge applies every year for an AGI and the SCA HOA wants to save the $40,000.00 + dollars they currently have in short-term GICs; money paid by its members over the years, so they can fight the AGI next year.  "I'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today".  Does anyone see the logic in delaying?  I don’t.  Perhaps if Parkbridge is challenged ‘today’, there won’t be an AGI next year?  Oh, and the cost to hire a Paralegal (when the HOA finally got off their asses and moved forward to deal with the AGI), is estimated to be between $1,500.00 and $2,000.00.  Based on that, I would say that the HOA has enough to hire legal representation for the next 20+ years, if necessary.

That’s one reason.  The other and, perhaps, the most compelling one is not only the deterioration of some of our services but the complete cessation of others, since Parkbridge bought Sandycove Acres in late 2013.  The worst?  The snow clearance and maintenance of the common areas in the grass growing seasons.   Yet the HOA Board of Directors voted unanimously NOT to meet with some of the member residents to even discuss the issue of filing a T-6 for a rent abatement.  In my opinion, there are 10, count ‘em, ten useless Directors on the HOA Board.

Parkbridge Adult Lifestyle Communities,  bought ‘us’ just before Christmas 2013, which made it my second winter here in South Park, SCA. The existing Community Manager was staying on and since she was privy to the previous year’s problems, the winter of 2013/2014 snow clearance wasn’t terrible.  OMG, it hasn’t been terrible since then, it has been absolutely abysmal. I could write a book about the problems here in South Park, SCA but that isn’t the reason I am writing this blog post.  It is the main reason I decided to stand for election to the Home Owners’ Association Board of Directors.

It is, once again, about the sense of entitlement and small-and-petty minded residents here in SCA, who think that they ‘deserve’ things, I think mostly because they’re been here a long time; or because they’ve volunteered on some of the committees, that they deserve to get whatever it is they want.  I used to have a next door neighbour like that.    Though this attitude is not unique to The Entitled here in SCA, north or South Park, it is the mind-set I live with and see every day, including the bossy-pants women I’ve met in Aquayak but that’s a sequel, which I’ll get to one day.  

Since most of the SCA Home Owners' Association Board of Directors have been in ‘office’ since Time Began, I decided to run for the Board and hopefully inject new blood and new thinking.  Most of the Directors are dinosaurs and I believe that their creative juices fossilized somewhere around the Jurassic period. Sad to say that the President of the SCA HOA BoD (Sandycove Acres Home Owners’ Association Board of Directors) is the oldest dinosaur still roaming SCA soil and the one I call The DoAsIsayasarus.  If you don’t, you’re out of the herd.  So, 9 people seem to just blindly follow The Leader.  I can just hear my mother now, “So, if your best friend decides to jump off a cliff, will you be jumping right behind her?”  The Leader is so wrong so much of the time and it seems to have rubbed off on ALL the Board of Director members, who don’t even seem to realize that running to be elected, even if only to a Board of Directors, is a political process, witness by this message received on Monday, May 30/16 via bulk snail mail and I quote verbatim: 

A MESSAGE FROM YOUR CURRENT HOME OWNERS’ ASSOCIATION DIRECTORS

CONCERNING THE ELECTION OF DIRECTORS FOR 2016/2017

At the Wheel – Sunday June 12 @ 1:30 p.m.

                                   

“Your Board of Directors has noted with considerable dismay that, for the first time in over 40 years, the election of your representatives has become a “political party” situation with canvassing for support and a candidates meeting.  This meeting, by the way, is NOT an Association event but is being held by a separate group of residents primarily to promote their own slate of nominees.  

                                   

Wrong again, DoAsIsayasarus, we are ALL brand new INDEPENDENT candidates, who had the help and support of some residents, who are enlightened enough to see that change is needed, and instead of the lip service, which is all we seem to get from the current and past SCA HOA BoD.  The group put their money, time and effort where their mouths are and actually did something constructive to help promote the new candidates to become known to SCA residents.  We also helped increase membership in the HOA because only members can vote. 

And it goes on to say, in the typical SCA HOA BoD fascist way: 

"This development – which we feel is not the Sandycove way and most inappropriate – is not of our choosing or to our liking."  

Well now, isn’t that just too bad??!!!!  Tsk, tsk, imagine that someone(s) would DARE to run against the current Board of Dictators, who seem to believe that being on the SCA HOA BoD is for their lifetime.  Which actually just might be so, judging by the way they’ve written their Constitution and By-laws (you can access on their website), and which are woefully out-dated since the last time they were updated was in 2010, pre-Parkbridge.  

There is a lot more that can be said for the two-sided piece of SCA HOA BoD political propaganda I received on May 30/16 (but I'll keep it short), which they were very clear to print on the front of the mailing envelope “(Paid for by the Directors personally)”.  What exactly did the Directors pay for?  Did they pay for just the printing of this piece of s*%t?  If so, who picked up the cost of the envelopes and the postage?  Oh, and talking about propaganda - who paid for the 3 page piece, load of crapola, which I feel is mis-information, half-truths and untruths, which I received via bulk snail mail on March 21/16? 

Trying to get answers on the voting process, in particular the proxy voting, is like getting a root canal – lengthy, half-assed and not satisfying.  Answers were not forth-coming unless I pushed like mad and were contradicted by information which was made public by the HOA, usually right after I asked the questions.  AND, if the President didn’t like my responses, I got this from him a bunch of times:  “We stand by our previous responses and this is our final communication on the matter.”  Nice, huh?

The proxy ballot is a work of art and set-up totally slanted to favour as many of the current Board Members as possible by the way the names are put in order.  Instead of being in a single column and alphabetical by last name, they made two columns and set the names up alphabetically, side-to-side.  Oh, and their rules for the disbursement and pick-up of the proxy ballots are only verbal and are even more slanted. They have holes in the procedure big enough to drive a Mack truck through.  Some of it seemed to be made up as they went along.

So, a few Newbies decided to run for the SCA HOA BoD to try and make a difference in the tunnel-thinking SCA HOA BoD, as dictated by the President.  Two people dropped out fairly quickly, as they were, according to one of the new candidates, “so persecuted for deciding to run, they couldn’t take the heat" and got out of hell’s kitchen.  One other was a late nomination and one I believe was brought in as a ringer to split the number of votes other new candidates might get and thus, diminish the chances of a newbie winning.  And so, the result?  The same 10 dinosaurs were re-elected.  So I assume that we can look forward to another year of the same old close-minded, narrow-minded, petty-minded, tyrannical, despotic ruling by the very committee who seems to be in Management’s pocket, judging by the decisions they make and why.  

And, yes, once again, speaking from both sides of his face as usual, the President informed some members that a count by candidate was available, it just has to be requested and yet, on their website, it is VERY CLEARLY stated:  

”As has been the tradition with the Home Owners AGM & Elections actual vote counts are not made public.   Only the successful candidates names.”    

Man-oh-man, Mad Magazine sure had it right with their feature, ‘What They Say and What It Really Means’. Or, maybe it’s more a case of the Horse’s Ass just not knowing the Horse’s head is doing.  They deserve each other. 

  

We, as SCA resident members, definitely deserve better.

© 2016 Phyllis Mahon aka Undercover Sandycove-r 

LOVE ME, LOVE ME NOT

Funny the reasons some people may like you … or not.  Recently, I had an epiphany about something as mundane as sod.  Yes, I mean sod.  You know, the green stuff which is your lawn, besides the weeds.

As Wiki defines it:  The Poaceae (English pronunciation: /poʊˈeɪ.siˌiː/) or Gramineae are the large and nearly ubiquitous family of monocotyledonous flowering plants known as grasses. The Poaceae include the cereal grasses, bamboos and the grasses of natural grassland and cultivated lawns (turf) and pasture. Grasses have stems that are hollow except at the nodes and narrow alternate leaves borne in two ranks. The lower part of each leaf encloses the stem, forming a leaf-sheath.   Leaf-sheath, leaf-sheath, leaf-sheath.  You try to say that 5 times fast.

I just know my lawn grows like crazy, beginning in mid-to-late April and I usually have to mow it by the first week in May.  This year was kinda weird, in that the grass had grown so high in the first 5 or 6 feet out from the porch, it was almost taller than Sofie, The Wonder Dog.  Sometimes, when that happens, she tends to wander over to the neighbour where the grass is shorter and use the facilities there, ‘cause she really doesn’t like it when the grass tickles her cute little pink belly.  It really doesn’t have to be very high for that to happen. 

For whatever reason, the rest of the lawn right to the driveway wasn’t growing much at all, except for those yellow-headed cheery mop heads, aka dandelions.   Dilemma time.  Should I just mow the part of the lawn that really, really needs it so Sofie would stay on our side?  Or should I mow everything even though 80% of the mowing time and effort would show zero results?

As I stand at my front door and survey my queendom, I sigh and know that I know the answer.  I have to mow.  At least the part gone wild and decide to just get it over with.  I change into my early spring lawn mowing outfit; old jeans (hmmm, they’re a little big at the waist – nice) and a ratty old Taz T-shirt, sweat-stained Mickey Mouse baseball hat and erstwhile running shoes I have kept for the very purpose of mowing.  Oh yeah and sun glasses.  I carry the lawnmower battery to the back door (it lives in the ‘Dora’ bedroom during the winter, as per the user’s manual and gets charged once a month.  The weed whacker battery is charged and ready to go too.

I tromp though the shortish grass out the back to the 3' x 8’ storage shed Management so generously provides and unlock the door.  For some reason, I always scoot back when I open the door ‘cause I kinda expect a swarm of something to come bursting out.  I consider this necessary though, ‘cause when I first inspected my storage locker after moving here, I had to knock down quite a number of small roundish mud wasp nests from the cardboard covered chicken wire, which separates my storage from my neighbours.  And, you never know what other critters may have taken refuge in there over the cold winter months.

A few things need to be rearranged to get to the lawnmower and I finally lug the thing out along with the weed whacker.  I push it mightily, making a trail in the longish grass around the locker area to the back door, where its energy source is waiting and get both batteries inserted.  I lift the yellow handle on the lawnmower and pull it up and the lawnmower starts with a reassuring roar.  I wasn’t quite sure if the battery charger was working, as the little red light is supposed to turn green when the charge is complete (it takes about 12 hours).  The little light hadn’t been turning green anymore toward the end of last summer.  I called the company which supplies new battery chargers (for $80.00 yikes!) and explained the problem and the man I spoke to said that it could just be the green bulb was burnt out.  Well, I wasn’t going to pay $80.00 for a green bulb and decided to take my chances that the charger would charge.   It appears that it is.

I chug off to the front of the house and start with the section gone mad.  It didn’t take too long to get that done and I finally decide to just leave the rest.  There really was no point in mowing something if it didn’t look like you mowed it.  Sofie was happy.

A week later I get home from a meeting and survey my (leased) land.  This time the grass is undeniably long all over and dandelions are running rampant. Sighing, I change into my lawn mowing outfit and trudge out to the storage shed, doing my little dash-backward dance when I fling the door open.  I sometimes wonder what my neighbours think when they see me doing that.

I trek to the front yard and turn on the lawnmower, which shows 2-out-of-3 green lights, meaning the charge is 2 thirds full.  I hope that’s enough to get everything done, especially the insane first 5-6 feet from the porch.  There’s just enough juice to get both front, sides and back yard done and then I weed whack. I’m pretty sweaty by the time I finish sweeping the sidewalk off but it all looks good and I love the smell of freshly mown grass.

So where is all this heading, you ask?  Well, a good friend of mine, Jae, who’s an avid gardener and the one responsible for the little garden I now have at the front of my house, called while I was out.  I called her back and she very casually asks what I plans I had for Thursday or Friday, as she had some gardening in mind.  My gardening and expanding my garden, as it turns out.  Yep, she had been busy splitting some of her mature perennials and wanted to share them with me. Here we go again. Without her sweat-equity though, and plants from her garden, I would still just have Poaceae growing right up to my porch.

Well, it turned out that I hadn’t made any plans for Thursday and it was a beautiful sunny, warm day.  My house faces south, so gardening in the morning is definitely a sweaty affair.  My friend, Jae, does most of the heavy stuff, as a wonky knee does not lend itself to pushing a shovel into the cement-like ground.  Jae seems to push it down effortlessly and gently pries a good-size piece of freshly mowed lawn, now known as sod, out the ground.  Jae casually mentions that her husband, Dave, said "hi", which makes me pause for thought, as we're not exactly friends.  I’m not sure what caused the disapproval I sense from him but I don’t spend a whole lot of time thinking about it or him, if any.   And, really, what it boils down to for me, is that I only care what people think of me, if they are important in my life.

Then Jae casually mentions, that Dave mentioned, that if there was any sod from turning more of my lawn into garden, he wouldn’t mind having it to fill in some of the bald spots around their yard, which is where all the sod from my now-garden went the first two times.  Ah ha!  The penny drops.  Dave may not like me but he loves my sod!  And I just know that every time he looks at the not-so-bald spots-anymore, he can’t help but remember where all that nice green Poaceae came from.  Put that grass in your pipe and smoke it, dahlink!

© 2016 Phyllis Mahon aka Undercover Sandycove-r - “ALL IMAGES AS COPYRIGHTED BY PHYLLIS MAHON ARE PROTECTED AND REGISTERED … IT’S UNLAWFUL TO REPOST, COPY OR PUBLISH IMAGES FROM THIS WEBSITE.”