Wet Grass

There is a dampness on the lawn this morning that brings back lots of memories.  Some of those memories go all the way back to Junior High and even before that.  They are memories of close encounters with wet grass.

I'm sure most people will think I have totally lost my mind talking about wet grass.  But, for whatever reason, those thoughts are stuck in my head just like the wet grass sticks to my boots when I walk across the yard. 

As a youngster I treasured the opportunities to go to Muleshoe with my Grandpa to help him at the ranch.  He had improved bermuda grass pastures that were irrigated first by side-rolling sprinklers and then later by a pivot system.  When he had the side-rolls we would drive along and make sure that all the sprinkler heads were working properly.  Sometimes they would be plugged by debris such as grass or sand or even the occasional frog.  We would take a piece of baling wire and try to free the debris by poking the wire into the nozzles.  Sometimes, if it was a frog, it would come out in stringy pieces, but always, my jeans would be soaked to the knees from walking in the wet, freshly watered grass.

Later, when I played football, I remember the early morning practices on wet grass.  We would get soaked.  We would have wet grass clinging all over us.  Then, if you were tackled, or were doing the tackling, you would sometimes find your facemask plowing into the wet grass and it would get in your face and in your nose and mouth and cling to the facemask.

In a small school, everyone is expected to do a little of everything so, I was also in the marching band.  We often had marching practice early in the morning before school started.  We kept special shoes in the band hall just for marching in the wet grass.  They were always wet so they rotted fairly quickly.  By the end of the marching season they were pretty much worthless.  They were the source of many stinking feet.

Then, there was mowing the lawn when it was wet.  I didn't mind mowing when it was wet for the reason that it wasn't quite as hard on my hay fever as dry grass, however, it was a pain because it constantly would stop up the discharge on the lawnmower.  Of course, it was never good to clean that discharge with your hand and then later to inadvertently rub your watering, itchy, hay-fevered eye.  It would cause my eyes to swell shut from the irritation.

Wet grass.  I laugh at this post because of the memories that it elicits from me. 

Chris