I’ve been distracted lately. The finches (my self-sustaining pets) have not been getting their finch feeders replenished in a timely fashion. Bird baths haven’t been refreshed (see earlier entries).

(Bird baths that haven’t been refreshed get “gross”– “gross” dates me big time. Who says “gross” anymore? Nobody.)

I looked at my garden/backyard/green stuff and realized that it was dehydrated, if not crispy, because I hadn’t noticed that the darn thing need watering.

I went out and contributed mightily to the Newburyport Water bill woes and spent a whopping two hours pouring water on some very wilted, withering looking green stuff.

(Apparently, water-wise, we may well be paying more because we, the citizens of Newburyport, MA, aren’t using enough water… the Water Department has to pay its bills, so the price of water goes up… I am now using more water thereby helping out my city, my state and my country… go figure.)

My neighbors (and now the readers of the Newburyport Blog) must think I’m totally nuts (actually they might think that already). I was wandering around the yard drenching stuff here and there going, “Don’t die on me yet, we’ve come so far together.” (Which of course, makes absolutely no sense whatsoever… Can you try and inspire wilty, withering plants? I don’t think so.)

I think the plants may have been paying attention, because they don’t look quite as withery as they did before.

I’ve given up on the grass. It’s a nice shade of brown/grey. And it’s crunchy. Everything, that I haven’t gotten around to watering yet is crunchy (lots of crunchy stuff)…

And I’m beginning to see BIG merits in crabgrass. It’s green, it’s fearless, it’s not crunchy. (Why does crabgrass get such a bad rap? It’s August, there’s been NO rain for what seems like weeks, and the crabgrass is green and not withery… I’m beginning to have “crabgrass admiration”… is this “lawn heresy”??)

Crunch, crunch, crunch… crispy, crispy–except for the crabgrass. Hope the finches keep chowing down. Don’t leave my back yard just yet, Ok? Eat up big time to feed those babies (if there are still finch babies) and to get lots of strength for that long flight south.

Mary Eaton
Newburyport