Please water me green.

California has a water problem. A three-year drought. People are asked to cut back on water usage by about twenty percent. Leave the water off when brushing teeth. Don’t use the water hose to wash leaves and grass off the driveway. Take shorter showers. Water the lawn only twice a week for about thirty minutes per watering. Better yet remove the lawn from front yards and replace area with rock, cactus, and lizards. If I lived in Los Angeles, I would replace the front lawn with my favorite, concrete and paint in lines for a Pickleball court.
Now far east of Los Angeles in the hills near Whittier is a beautiful ramble of grass and chapels known as ‘Rose Hills.’ Identified from afar with Rose Hills spelled out with huge lighted letters. Big red letters larger than the ones in the hills of Hollywood. Acres and acres of Bermuda grass and landscaping. I think Rose Hills said they have about 1500-acres to be approximate. That’s lots of grass to keep green. Lots of water to keep the thirsty grass green. But basically, their business is mostly grass. Grass and flat headstones with a dozen or so chapels.
My mom and dad along with my aunt Elsie and older sister Peggy are interred there. Beneath the ample irrigated grass. Grass by the way watered by reclaimed water. Water processed from water run-off, from storm sewers, bath and basin waters. In other words, used water filtered and purified then returned to the city water system. Potable water safe to drink but tastes yucky. Tastes like water with a slight mix of soda or salt. Near by neighborhoods often subscribe to bottled water to drink.
But back to Rose Hills. The water reclamation plant is right next door to Rose Hills. Oh, so convenient. Other cemeteries and golf courses with vast acres are not so lucky. Possibly to the point of slightly brown grasses. Blending in with the smogy haze. In the meantime, L A is doing what it can do to capture more water run-off from the nearby mountain snows and occasional rain falls. Digging and building water reservoirs. Glad I live in Oklahoma with dozens of lakes nearby. Plenty of water to drink and hose down my driveway. Well, actually I have no driveway to hose. I live in a Cohousing community and I have no front lawn. Boy howdy, am I lucky.

Published by Okie Beyond borders

I come from a family who migrated from the parched red dirt Plaines of southern rural Oklahoma. Migrating to blue collar working class community of East Los Angeles. There is where I was born. I am Mr. Writermelon. I can only write what my grammar and spell checker allows. I am neither profound nor profane. Boy howdy! Send comment to: Mr.writermelon@gmail.com

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