Trees, those useless trees

With a goal of having a BBQ for my 35th birthday, I've been working on bringing order to the Ranch.

The front lawn, now that the dandilions have been poisoned to death, is a brown graveyard. Small, incongruous patches of grass are surrounded by greater swaths of browned stems.

The back yard, once a grassy trench, has been flattened and weeded, but remains new, amaturish hardscape and naked clay soil.

One goal for the back yard was to have no turf grass. I'm determined to find another possibility among the whole of the world's flora. Easier said than done, as it turns out. Manzanita and coyote brush aren't going to cut it when trying to fill in between the paving stones or add some green to the narrow strips of brownfield.

The work progresses slowly. Each week I hack away until my green trashcans (the trash cans that are supposed to contain plant waste) are full, and then I have to stop. It doesn't take much brush to fill them completely.

So much to do.