The last couple of weeks have been very dry and our lawns were starting to look a little parched. Except for Artie’s. His grass is always a little greener. I saw a small group of the men walk down the block towards the Woodward’s house. They stopped at the edge of the property and stared at the grass. It’s not the first I have seen this happen. The men on our block are very tribal about figuring out what to do to help each other. They regularly and freely give opinions on what tool to use when building, what kind of oil to use in a car or how long to cook a burger on the grill. They were less intent on discussing what creative gift to give their wives at Christmas, but a trip to Hall’s Jewelry Shop usually helped then through that dilemma.
A couple of minutes later, Artie appeared and joined the group. There were handshakes and lots of smiles before they all turned toward the grass. It appeared as though Artie had a lot to share about his grass care. The discussion continued for a little longer and then the men started walking back down the block.
Later that night, I asked Steve what they had talked about at Artie’s house. He answered vaguely but did say one word clearly, “water.” I really wanted to let this one word go but couldn’t resist asking what he meant. Steve reported that Artie had been getting up in the middle of the night to water his lawn. Again, I could not resist. Middle of the night? Steve said that Artie believed that less water evaporated if he watered at night. I couldn’t think of anything else to say but could see some logic in the answer. All the same, I was hoping not to catch Steve up in the middle of the night outside with the hose on watering the lawn.