Wet and cool: A lawn's dream

For some of you, this cool, wet spring has been the bane of itchy green thumbs.

I understand some farmers have been delayed from getting into their fields to plant. With all the vagaries of making a living from agriculture and having grown up on a farm in Killough Valley over yonder in the Ozarks, I sympathize with the plight of the farmer.

But I can't help my selfish feelings that this has been one of the best springs I've had in a long time.

Cool nights.

Cool days.

Plenty of rain to make the flowers lush.

And make the grass greener.

OK. I know some of you like to see pretty gardens and lawns just as much as the next person. But you would really rather not have to mow your lawn twice a week.

Not me. I don't mind mowing the fast-growing grass. I prefer that to mowing a spotty lawn. You know what I mean. There are some years when we don't have as much rain and springtime isn't quite so cool, and parts of the lawn grow enough to need mowing while other parts don't. So you run the mower over all of it, and most of the time you can't see where you've been or where you should go next.

Not so with a cool, wet growing season, which is a lawn's idea of heaven.

I don't have any trouble deciding where or what to mow.

Plus the cool, wet spring has been ideal for patching my lawn.

Last year, for example, the six tomato plants we set out went wild. Eventually they toppled the wire cages they were in, and the vines spilled over a portion of my lawn. By the time frost came and I got rid of them, the tomato vines had killed the grass.

This year I patched that area and a few others where I thought more grass should be growing. That was two weeks ago. Now I can't even tell where I made the patches.

Just about everything that blooms seems to be bigger and brighter this year. Our new clematis vines growing in pots on the patio have blossoms as a big as dinner plates.

That's a running joke in our family. Several years ago my wife's brother, who lives on the Olympic peninsula of Washington state, brought some maple eaves from a tree in his yard to a Missouri gathering of the family.

"Look how big those leaves are," he said, whipping out a tape measure. "See? Fourteen inches."

Yes, that's a big maple leaf.

Every time my wife and I see a large leaf, we swear it's at least 14 inches across.

Just like our clematis blooms.

The magnolia is putting on quite a display, too. Some of the blooms are bigger than the platter we use for fried chicken. That's a lot bigger than a dinner plate.

A friendly reminder

There are just 22 days left until the deadline for signing up for the First Annual Louis J. Lorimier Memorial World-Famous Downtown Golf Course Tournament and All-You-Can-Eat Catfish Buffet.

The tournament is scheduled for 1:30 p.m. June 25, followed by the catfish buffet at about 3:30 p.m., depending on how long the golf part takes.

Yes, golfers will be playing downtown. They will be on the Common Pleas Courthouse lawn, in some alleys, through the Convention and Visitors Bureau building and along the river, ending up at the Red House Interpretive Center. The tournament is a fund-raiser for the Red House.

Watch Sunday's Sports section for details and an entry form.

And don't forget: There will never be another first annual one of these.

R. Joe Sullivan is the editor of the Southeast Missourian.