I find it hard to care about lawn care. My lawn looks like I am a small-scale farmer and my crop is dandelions. I would estimate that, of a square foot of my yard, about 30% would qualify as some kind of grass. This evening I noticed these gorgeous patches of dark grass that had risen above all the rest of the grass since the last mowing. Standing in the driveway I thought “wouldn’t it be nice if my entire lawn were that stuff?” Upon closer inspection I realized it’s crabgrass.
My neighbors treat their lawns with sprays and spreads. One neighbor laid sod this spring. This is the second time I’ve had a neighbor lay sod. We all know how great sod looks on a new lawn. But do you know how great it looks next to my lawn? It is like sitting next to a guy at a wedding who’s wearing a $5,000 suit.

Every time I am out raking, picking up sticks from the dozen or so mature trees on my lot, or pulling weeds from the flowerbed every few years, all I can think about is that I’ll turn 50 this year, my father died at 58 of a massive heart attack, and I have 30 years of writing projects laying dormant in my study. I want to write. I don’t care about having a beautiful lawn. I don’t even care about having a lawn at all!
So here’s my solution. Writer Ranches. Let’s create subdivisions for writers. There will be a common building which will house space for entertaining and writing workshops. Each house will be four rooms: an eat-in kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, and a study. These houses will be inexpensive, zero-maintenance structures. And what will we do with all the money we’ve saved from such inexpensive housing? Hire groundskeepers, of course.