Grass

First before I piss off every one of my fine British friends let me say that I like lawn, it looks nice when cut low and tight around flower beds and garden walks, and spacious acres all flat and outlined with trees and flowers is certainly spectacular. I also admire the effort required to create these green patches, as well as the hard work necessary to maintain them in pristine-like condition. That said, I am simple uninterested in the latter effort and would not EVER under take the former. Why? I am too busy. The Brits, as a group, are certainly busy too...but MOST of someones BUSY, female or male (mostly the latter) is dealing with the meadows they have purchased and turning them into lawns. These lawns fight back if you hadn't noticed, they grow with every rain and ray of rare sunshine here in the Berry. This place is more like Ireland than any French travel noveletta would speak of. It rains here an average per month of OVER 3 inches. A meter per annum, about what a good lawn here would grow in a month left to it's own devices. Then one has to cut it back down after any extended absence or find someone who WILL. I won't be doing this chore for you, too busy doing Other Things, namely painting, moving stones, building furniture, cooking, repairing chairs, chasing away stray cats (another blog coming on THAT!) and other misvelleneous chores assigned by the boss, her name is Kelly.
She is my wife. The observation is not lost on me that every single one of our British friends and compatriots have this same issue common to them, too much lawn to let alone for anytime to do anything else of meaningful gain. One fine lady from the north of the British Isles and who will rename completely nameless in this blog has a fine place a short distance out of Lignieres. A cute-as-pie French cottage she has completely decorated in an arty and beautiful way plunked right down at the top of what appears to be a meadow just about everytime I see the place. Why? Because the dear person is HERE, in this area about a month or six weeks per year. The lawn not so slowly becomes first scraggly, then taller like alfalfa then into a full blown meadow when left uncut for various periods of time. She struggles with this as she cannot deal with it's height herself and so must get help periodically. The meadow must be struck down to allow for the parties and people she loves to have around her. A deal has been struck between another Brit with the same damned problem (MORE!) as she has but HE is here full time thus only spends 75% of his time mowing, weeding, planting, trimming, edging and cutting on his OWN spacious lawn-meadow so he can spend the rest of his SPARE time dealing with HERS! This is MADNESS! For the Love Of God, spare these poor souls there love affrair with GRASSES, so they can take care of their houses and ruins so as to improve their lot. Gad Zooks! I'd scrape out a path thru the meadow, down to the corner trees, over past the fruit trees and back, not straight, all curvy and pastoral-like, put down Loire River stone over anti-weed cloth and call it good. Clear an area of 10X10 for a bench and some chairs and I'd be set. Enough! The GRASS is Not Greener on the other side of the fence...it's LONG and MEADOW-Like...they must be gone somewhere, maybe on a golfing vacation, they LIKE greens! It's certain they're Brits.