Whew!

Today is a beautiful day. It is the last day of September, the trees are turning brilliant shades of red, yellow, and orange. The sun is warm and there is barely a breeze. Best of all, there are no men with diggers and manure spreaders in my yard.
Allow me to back up . . .
As we were building our landscaping last summer, my brother-in-law stopped by and had a GREAT idea. Inspired by the dried manure we were using to fill in the planting spaces, he thought, "Wow. You should tear up your lawn and put a pad of manure over it. That would give you a really nice and even lawn." (Well, I was not actually able to read his exact thoughts, but it was to that extent.) He then verbalized this to my husband.
My husband--my brother-in-law's brother--was ECSTATIC when he heard this idea. "Yes, he exclaimed. Let us tear up the lawn in September. That would be GREAT! Then I can go back out to the field to harvest, my brother can return home to his plush lawn that was planted before he had children, and you can constantly keep our children off the manure, Laura, since you are home anyway! Yes, that would be absolutely SPLENDID!" (OK--I don't think I've ever heard David use the word "splendid," but it goes with this ridiculous enthusiasm he was suddenly expressing.)
And so this conversation continued for weeks after this initial light-bulb moment. Of course, I was the absolutely irrational one for not wanting a yard made of manure until the grass could finally grow and fill in.
Then a funny thing happened. I expressed my concerns to my friend Deb, who reminded me that the lawn across our road would go untouched, still giving the kids a place to play. I came home, told David he could rip up the lawn come September if he really wanted to, and I barely heard a word from him after that. With my husband, there's no joy in discussing a topic if it isn't going to be a debate.
So, here we are. September 30. No diggers. No manure spreaders. No kids rolling in dried cow poop. Thank God for small miracles.