Nuisance Grass

 

That old cliché “good fences make good neighbors” was once upon a time quite true for our family. More than once, we have installed or rebuilt a fence to delineate yards or to contain our pets.

Upon moving back to Missouri in 2012, we encountered some encroachment that no one could have foreseen in this relatively peaceful suburb. Next door to us lived a family of seven: a married couple and their five sons who were renting the home. The homeowners of record, a middle-aged couple, had been forced to move to Texas to follow the husband’s job and health insurance.

When the boys were young, we had no issues with them. The parents were friendly to us, as well. The toddler twins, blond and busy, were adorable, and the three older boys were mostly pleasant to us.

Unfortunately, human nature made the situation next door unbearable in what felt like the blink of an eye when the husband, Zeke, opted to take off with some other woman (or so rumor had it). Janelle was left here with at least four sons; we think their oldest either got his own place or moved in with Zeke.

Janelle didn’t socialize much, at least not with us.

Soon the sons were running amok. Stu had to scold the bigger boys for playing catch right in front of our living room picture window. We were certain that those boys thought Stu an old crab, but we didn’t care about that as much as we cared about our property.

Zeke would appear on some weekends with a shiny new pickup truck to collect some or all of his sons. Once, I heard Janelle screaming at him with a frequency and ferocity one only hears in movies starring actual witches. I looked out my window mid-screaming to see Zeke actually cowering behind his truck door, as if he were a potential victim in a police shootout.

There were several incidents with red and blue flashing lights right outside my bedroom window at hours during which a working woman should not have been conscious. Another time, I heard movement at around 2 AM, and awoke with a start to peer through my blinds at a shadowy, male, human Stonehenge in their driveway, tiny phone screens all aglow.

Stu and I agreed that something needed to be done. The way our neighborhood is laid out, one can’t really fence off a front yard, and decorative brick or rocks would surely present a tripping hazard and/or a lawsuit opportunity.

That’s how we happened upon the ornamental grass plants, which at that time were small and harmless looking, not to mention free for the taking. Stu picked up ten of these and planted them: five in the front yard near our edge of the property line, and the other five in the back yard near the cyclone fence.

Where doggies go, not much will grow, and therefore the back plants died almost instantly. The ones in front, however, did exactly what we needed them to do, which was to grow large quickly. Sadly, the same was happening for the two young men and the terror twins.

Janelle was less and less visible, and the sons and their school friends more and more so, not to mention audible. Expletives were not deleted as mutual disrespect was shown loudly. Stu tried to get help for their situation, but more than once, we had to call the police.

When it became clear to us that the situation was unbearable, Stu discreetly messaged the female owner of record, who was very responsive. In fact, she traveled back here from Texas to check on the situation in person, staying with relatives in town.

Meanwhile, we had contacted our Realtor to help us prepare for listing this house, and started looking at other houses for sale nearby. Much as we had grown to love our home, we figured that we could easily replace it and move on.

One day, when Stu saw Janelle outside, instead of simply waving, he approached her and proclaimed to her, “You win! We’re listing and moving away. We can’t take this anymore.” Imagine our surprise when she replied, “yeah, well, we’ve been evicted, and we’re moving first!”

That summer, our next-door homeowner and her little dog were back here doing some serious corrective remodeling on the home that she and her husband still hoped to retire to. After the remodeling finished, of course, she had to go back to Texas. Their home was then rented to a young, childless couple who were so quiet we barely saw them, although we would wave and smile.

Grass plants kept growing, although we no longer felt their need. And every autumn, we would need to surgically remove the waving stalks of seeds that got commensurately larger and heavier.  

This year, thanks to the really bizarre weather all summer, the plants are beyond nuisance category. It has turned into what might happen if saw grass and bamboo birthed a child, with seeds that cling to every conceivable clothing item, fur, and hair, and work like tiny burrs on sensitive skin.

Several years ago, when our homeowner neighbors retired and moved back here, we tried to have the plants removed. Our attempt to give them away free yielded the realization that, where post hole diggers and shovels failed miserably, a backhoe or similar equipment would be required to dig them up.

The nuisance grass is here to stay, and so are we, it would seem.