I have two dogs. Two large, energetic, shamelessly spoiled dogs. They don't have any respect for the backyard. They rip it up when they play, and I plant grass seeds to patch it up. Unfortunately I can't keep up with these two large, energetic, shamelessly spoiled dogs. So, we had the entire backyard lawn replaced with the stuff that American football players play on.
It's hard work, so the men have a substantial breakfast to start the day.
First, they ripped up the old grass, and regrade the yard to slope significantly away from the house.
Then they layer the newly graded yard with gravel. It provides excellent drainage.
The gravel is leveled and compacted.
Break time.
Beverage of champions!
Then the new "grass" is laid out, and cut to fit.
I can't wait for it to be finished.
I'm going to lay in it with the dogs, and roll, and sunbathe. And then I'll just lay there some more.
Why?
Because I wuv my Pweacher.
Because my heart quivers at the touch of Sonya's sniff-sniff-sniff-sniffies.
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