I stepped out of my car yesterday and smiled at Thelma. "It's a good grass day," I said. She just laughed. She humors my obsession with—and general failure at—trying to maintain a healthy lawn. There are two growing seasons around here. From late Spring to early Fall the grass is usually growing. The rest of the year the moss is growing. (The weeds, of course, grow year round.) We're in the thick of moss season now, but the weather has been unseasonably warm. Already the primroses are in bloom, the tulips and hyacinths are peeking out of the ground and the grass is growing again. Saturday, I dusted off the lawn mower and gave our yard its first clip of the year. The air was too cool for the scent of fresh cut grass to linger, but I did get to stare and soak in the beauty of an evenly trimmed lawn. I know my 2o1o grass growing adventure will be full of the inevitable frustration and fretting, but for a few days at least everything is perfect. I've deci...