I’ve been a lazy blogger lately, in part because I didn’t garden much in the summer months, and in part because every time I think of taking photos, it’s dark outside.

This month, I decided to stop whining and get back to work on the front yard. I’m beating the second third into submission, removing all the grass, and replacing it with native and naturalized plants.

This morning, I found a reference to a post on GardenRant about the whole anti-lawn movement. Obviously, I’m anti-lawn, but not for any of the reasons mentioned in the article. While I know that lawns eat way too much water, and require fertilizers and pest control measures that eventually wash into the storm drains and cause all sorts of problems, the reason I’m killing off my lawn is simple: I hate it.

I hate taking care of a lawn. It’s sort of the same thing as cleaning house or doing laundry—no matter how well you do it, it always has to be done again a week later. (For the record, I only clean house when the dirt threatens to evolve into a higher life form, and thanks to the drop-off service around the corner, I haven’t done a load of laundry since 1996. Good Housekeeping will not be hanging any awards on my door.)

More than that, I hate what caring for a lawn does to me, both physically and financially. I generally end an hour of mowing with red, watery eyes and a snotty nose, because my allergies get aggrevated. I resent having to purchase weed and feed every year, because I don’t really care whether the lawn is green and healthy, or infested with dandelions—in fact, I actually favor the dandelions. I refuse to waste water on grass, because it’s just too expensive, and dammit, it makes the stuff grow faster, so I have to mow more often. It’s an expensive, sneezy, viscious circle.

So, I’m tearing the lawn out, little by little. My choice to plant with natives is purely a financial one: once I’ve spent the dollars to put them in, they don’t require much. An occasional feeding, and water when it’s really hot. I just bought a barrel to start storing rain water, so those few weeks in July and August won’t cost me anything. The fact that I also find those plants beautiful, and that I enjoy working in the garden with the bees, butterflies and birds they attract is a big bonus—but I don’t feel superior in any way to my neighbor, who mows, waters, feeds, and cares for his beautiful lawn with equal enjoyment.

It’s his business. I can only tend to my own garden.