Tag Archives: lawns

In a Fix

When you feel the world is falling apart, you may want to remind yourself that repairs are possible. Mostly. I’m not too sure about some of these signs. This one, for example:

Equip?

There’s room for “equipment” on this placard, so I can only suppose that somebody thought “equip” was a good quip. I beg to differ. Then there’s “don’t matter.” Without punctuation, this may be saying that “any equip don’t matter,” but “doesn’t” works better there. At least the apostrophe is correct.

Not so in this sign:

Before they repair anything else, they should fix the punctuation, specifically by adding an apostrophe to “lets.” They could fix the grammar, too: “tablets and phones” are plurals, and “it” isn’t.

Surely this is an unnecessary fix:

Renovation? Unless they’re planning to paint the dirt green and plaster over the gopher holes, I think spring and Mother Nature can do what’s necessary. I may be wrong, as my experience of nature is limited, given that I live in New York City. Also, how exactly does someone close a lawn? Not this way, judging from the number of squirrels romping around.

Maybe they can be lured away from the lawn, to this shop:

What self-respecting squirrels wouldn’t want to fix their fur here, with “repairing especially”? Balding rodents may opt for “reweaving” instead. My preference is for sign renovation, but I’m not holding my breath while I wait for grammar errors to be fixed.

Live from NY, it’s Mother Nature!

New Yorkers tend to see nature as something you beat into submission by (a) covering it with concrete or (b) manicuring it so that any semblance to actual greenery and wildlife is accidental. My favorite moment during a recent blizzard took place outside Eli’s, a fashionable (and expensive) food store on the Upper East Side. A store employee was loading plastic-wrapped logs into a taxi, presumably so their new owner  — who was wearing high heels! in the snow! — could keep warm. Roughing it, New York style.

But I digress. This post is about signs in Central Park, Manhattan’s closest brush with nature. The first appeared near a large open space dotted with some tufts of . . . well, some tufts. (I’m a New Yorker. Don’t ask me to identify plants.)

Renovation: Not just for houses anymore.

Renovation: Not just for houses anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I can envision “reseeding,” “rehabilitation,” or even “new sod.” But “renovation”? Nor was I aware that a lawn could be “closed.” The day I snapped this photo, the sparrow population of the area hadn’t gotten the message.

Logically, anything that’s closed can open. Hence this sign:

How do you open a lawn?

Unzip  each blade of grass . . .

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even the animal kingdom is subject to New Yorkers’ orders:

Noisy turtles, beware.

Noisy turtles, beware.

 

Good to know that, as in Amtrak’s quiet cars, no one around this pond will be distracted by turtles talking on cell phones or playing loud music. Now if we could just get the snapping turtles to tone it down a little . . .