I just want some grass. Is that so much to ask? Not the kind you smoke. No no. My dream is much simpler. I want a green yard. A lawn. The kind of grass you walk through, sit on to read a book, or watch the kids spin-around-in- circles in. But apparently I now live in a desert. Austin Texas is becoming increasingly arid making my dream ever more elusive.
There are many dreams to dream. Write the next great American Novel (that’s quickly adapted to a screenplay). Invent the self-cleaning bathtub. Or, have a personal “pause” button so I can truly think before I speak. But for now the dismal grass situation in my front yard is frankly all the goal I can gather. It’s an irritant. Like the lion with the thorn in his paw or a person with a seed stuck between denture and gum. Like those poor souls I am left immobile.
Nancy Miller Barton 