Benedict Quackenbush believed a man’s character was measured in blades of Kentucky bluegrass, trimmed precisely 2.5 inches high. To Benedict, his lawn was a green velvet statement of dominance over the chaotic forces of nature.

His neighbour, Miller, was a man of lesser character. Three years ago, Miller had dropped his guard against a single dandelion. By the second year, Miller’s lawn was a riotous, bohemian commune of crabgrass and clover.

By this spring, Miller had officially surrendered, replacing his endless weed pulling and spraying war with a hammock. He only mowed when the weeds got too tall.

“If it weren’t for the weeds, I’d have nothing to mow!” he chuckled.

Miller now spent his Saturdays sipping lemonade while watching Benedict wage a desperate, one-man crusade against the “Yellow and Green Menace” creeping across the property line.

Benedict’s strategy was Napoleonic. He began with tactical chemical warfare, spending his Saturday........

© Peterborough Examiner