What is the secret to a beautiful lawn? Today, I thought I’d share my annual spring ritual, which is guaranteed to give you, if not a beautiful lawn, at least one that looks like mine.

I usually start the year with the simple task of spraying the weeds in the driveway with weed killer. I don’t know why I insist on thinking this will be simple. Naturally, the battery for the wand is dead — the battery is always dead. Worse, the battery compartment will have sealed itself in a way that would do an Egyptian tomb credit.

But after I perform the annual ritual of pounding, screaming and sacrificing all 10 of my fingernails, I will get it open only to discover we have no fresh batteries in the house. So, I’ll take a trip and get batteries. Then, I’ll discover that the new batteries won’t work unless the compartment is firmly shut. Foolishly imagining that the compartment will be easier to open the second time if I need to, I shut it. Nothing happens. So I must repeat the ritual two more times, sacrificing skin since I have no more nails to give. Then I’ll decide that the wand is truly broken.

I’ll take another trip to get a new wand. This one will be fancier and will need a screwdriver to open its compartment. I’ll find the screwdriver, then find the screwdriver that fits and get the batteries in. Nothing. I’ll pound the wand. Husband will appear to ask how it’s going? I will pound the husband. Eventually, after some more screaming, I’ll notice a third little thing that needs to be turned on. This will do the trick. I’ll spray the weeds that are growing robustly in the driveway. This will have no noticeable effect.

Then I’ll make the mistake of looking around and seeing all the neighborhood’s beautifully tended lawns. Inspired and shamed, and much against my better judgement I’ll get out the edger. To my astonishment, it works! So I’ll optimistically begin trimming to the satisfying sound of the whirr. I usually labor for about 10 seconds before I realize that I’m not accomplishing anything because the cord, which supposedly automatically feeds to the correct length, is only 1 centimeter long. I’ll stop and try to manually pull out more cord, but I won’t be able to because it is made from plastic and super glue. Not only is it stuck, but the loose end will have somehow worked itself into the bottom of the coil. But I am more stubborn than the cord.

Using my teeth, I’ll finally pry the cord free. Then I’ll remember that I put a fertilizer/weed killer combo on the lawn only yesterday, and so using my teeth on a tool that just touched the grass might not have been the wisest move. I’ll pause to wonder why I bother. I know that no matter how carefully I edge the lawn, it always looks ragged, as though I chewed it myself in a midnight frenzy. Which, given all the weed killer mixed with pollen that I’ve been inhaling, is not completely out of the question.

So that’s my technique for the front of the house. The back of the house has the man-eating fronds, the dirt patch I call a garden, and the snail colony. All this requires care, but I see no reason why the backyard can’t become a mini paradise. After all, I can be determined when I want to be. Not necessarily successful, but determined.

Anneli Byrd is an academic adviser in Weber State University’s Student Success Center.

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