Tim and I have an in-ground irrigation system. I love it for convenience’s sake, because it frees me from dragging hoses and sprinklers around the yard. Or at least it did until our megalomaniacal town government forced The World’s Most Expensive Sewer System down our throats just because they want the 45-foot height restriction lifted so we can become Myrtle Beach.
|Hose at the ready:|
Thanks, Oak Island
Be that as it may, I no longer use the irrigation system except for the drip zone. I’m back to hauling hoses to water the south-side nursery pots and any new planting that isn’t reached by dripline until it stops wilting. The lawn is on its own. Spray zones are inefficient anyway, as they are subject to wind and evaporation issues. Plus, I’m not totally convinced the perfectly manicured lawn—an artificial, high-maintenance monoculture—is such a great idea in the first place. (In Second Nature, Michael Pollan does a hilarious riff on his dad’s refusal to buy into the tyranny of grass in a Long Island suburb in the 1950s. See Good Reads at right.)
|Mr. Pollan takes on the POA|
in Chapter 1
· People operating vibrating plows, trenchers and core aerators. All these pieces of equipment can (and do!) cut through, shatter and/or puncture hard pipe and driplines without anyone’s knowledge until the grass and shrubs start to go brown and crunchy despite the fact that new wetlands seem to be forming out at the front of your property.
|Watch out for this guy|
with his Dingo trencher