I grew grass.

I may have mentioned that our house is on the market, which makes me
(a) a professional cleaner
(b) a professional stager
(c) a professional landscaper
(d) insane
(e) all of the above.

If you chose "(e)," you are correct!

As you may have guessed from the oh-so-clever-and-creative title of this post, it refers to my recent foray into professional landscaping.  In the past few weeks, I have weeded and edged the gardens, trimmed bushes, laid sod, and (drum roll, please) planted grass seed.

I have tried, unsuccessfully, in the past to grow grass from seed, so this time--with the sale of our home on the line--I followed the directions very exactly.  I loosened up the soil; I raked in topsoil; I raked in fertilizer; I spread the seed by hand with love; I covered the area with a disposable growing mat-slash-cloth; I watched it rain and rain; I hoped that the seed did not get drowned; I hoped that it was not to cold; I hoped that the sun would come out; I checked under the mat-slash-cloth; I checked under the cloth again.

Lather; rinse; repeat.

Finally this morning the green growth mat-slash-cloth looked to be a bit of a different color of green, and lo and behold, there were hundreds of glorious, perfect little grass chutes poking through it! 

I was so happy that I made Alyssa (and Brooke) come and look.  They were underwhelmed.  So, I took pictures and texted them to a select few.  I also did my happy dance.

I grew grass!