Latest news with #lawn
The Guardian
19-07-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Tim Dowling: the dog is destroying the lawn, but I need to catch her red-pawed
Shortly after its first birthday, the new dog suddenly starts digging giant holes in the lawn. I don't know why I imagined a year would be a cut-off point for a dog developing new unwanted behaviours. Why shouldn't an adult dog find a hobby? Anyway, these giant holes represent one of the key challenges of canine training: encouragement is easy; discouragement is hard. It's easy to teach a dog that peeing outside is good. It takes a lot longer to teach it that peeing inside is bad. Discouragement requires, at the very least, the possibility of connecting any negative reinforcement to the bad thing in question, which in this case proves impossible. When I discover a new hole in the morning, I call the dog out to the garden. She arrives instantly, tail wagging. 'Is this you?' I say, indicating the fresh, football-sized crater. The dog looks at me in perplexity. 'I don't even know why I'm asking,' I say. 'Of course it's you.' The dog stares expectantly, as if something fun might be about to happen. 'I will catch you in the act one day,' I say. 'And there will be consequences.' No one who's seen my lawn would dare to suggest I'm precious about it. I cut it infrequently and never bother with edging. At this time of year it's mostly brown patches and spreading weeds, and I don't care. But the holes are deep enough to represent a hazard, so I fill each new one and sprinkle grass seed over it. If I don't have enough soil, I top them up with espresso grounds. It would be fair to say none of this is working. It's a difficult time of year in the garden all-round. Half the crops in my pretend farm have failed, while the others present a problematic success. My wife comes out to my office shed while I'm staring at my raised beds. 'I'm going to the supermarket,' she says. 'Do you know if we need anything?' 'Don't buy courgettes,' I say. 'We have, like, eight.' 'Don't worry, I won't,' she says. I poisoned my family with toxic courgettes four years ago and it put all of them off courgettes, possibly for life. But I still grow them because they're easy, resulting in an annual glut. 'This year's ones are fine,' I say. 'You've actually eaten some already, without knowing.' 'Anything else?' she says. 'We have shitloads of radicchio,' I say. 'And one cucumber. Otherwise, as far as I know, we're out of everything.' Soon after my wife leaves, I discover that the everything we're out of includes milk. Instead of texting her, I go to the nearest shop. 'I'll be back in 10 minutes,' I say to the dog. 'Don't dig.' On my return I run into the middle one, who stopped by on his way back from work and found no one home. 'I ate your cucumber,' he says. 'The whole thing?' I say. 'It was delicious,' he says. I spend the rest of the afternoon watching from my desk as the dog lies on the grass chewing on an outdoor cushion. It's bad behaviour, but it's not a hole. If I am to apply negative reinforcement to the correct crime, timing is everything. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion An email pings into my inbox. I turn to read it, and then, grudgingly, answer it. When I turn back the dog is gone and there's a new hole alongside the gutted cushion. I examine the hole carefully – it looks to be one I have already filled and re-seeded once – before calling the dog's name. The dog appears at the kitchen door, yawning and stretching. 'Come here,' I say. The dog walks across the lawn and sits at my feet. 'What's this?' I say, pointing to the hole. The dog looks at my outstretched finger, and then at me. 'Your new hobby is unacceptable,' I say. 'I'd only just filled it in yesterday.' The dog tilts its head slightly, as if to say: is this about the cushion? 'This is about the hole,' I say. 'Whatever it is you're looking for in life, you won't find it a foot under the lawn.' The oldest one, home from work, walks into the kitchen. The dog runs in to greet him. 'Hello,' he says. 'Why is your nose covered in dirt?' 'You in tonight?' I say. 'I think so,' he says. 'What's for supper?' 'Dunno,' I say. 'Whatever mum brings back, plus courgettes.' 'Ugh,' he says. 'It was four years ago!' I say. 'Four years of everyone rejecting my courgettes!' 'And yet,' he says, 'you persist.'
The Guardian
19-07-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Tim Dowling: the dog is destroying the lawn, but I need to catch her red-pawed
Shortly after its first birthday, the new dog suddenly starts digging giant holes in the lawn. I don't know why I imagined a year would be a cut-off point for a dog developing new unwanted behaviours. Why shouldn't an adult dog find a hobby? Anyway, these giant holes represent one of the key challenges of canine training: encouragement is easy; discouragement is hard. It's easy to teach a dog that peeing outside is good. It takes a lot longer to teach it that peeing inside is bad. Discouragement requires, at the very least, the possibility of connecting any negative reinforcement to the bad thing in question, which in this case proves impossible. When I discover a new hole in the morning, I call the dog out to the garden. She arrives instantly, tail wagging. 'Is this you?' I say, indicating the fresh, football-sized crater. The dog looks at me in perplexity. 'I don't even know why I'm asking,' I say. 'Of course it's you.' The dog stares expectantly, as if something fun might be about to happen. 'I will catch you in the act one day,' I say. 'And there will be consequences.' No one who's seen my lawn would dare to suggest I'm precious about it. I cut it infrequently and never bother with edging. At this time of year it's mostly brown patches and spreading weeds, and I don't care. But the holes are deep enough to represent a hazard, so I fill each new one and sprinkle grass seed over it. If I don't have enough soil, I top them up with espresso grounds. It would be fair to say none of this is working. It's a difficult time of year in the garden all-round. Half the crops in my pretend farm have failed, while the others present a problematic success. My wife comes out to my office shed while I'm staring at my raised beds. 'I'm going to the supermarket,' she says. 'Do you know if we need anything?' 'Don't buy courgettes,' I say. 'We have, like, eight.' 'Don't worry, I won't,' she says. I poisoned my family with toxic courgettes four years ago and it put all of them off courgettes, possibly for life. But I still grow them because they're easy, resulting in an annual glut. 'This year's ones are fine,' I say. 'You've actually eaten some already, without knowing.' 'Anything else?' she says. 'We have shitloads of radicchio,' I say. 'And one cucumber. Otherwise, as far as I know, we're out of everything.' Soon after my wife leaves, I discover that the everything we're out of includes milk. Instead of texting her, I go to the nearest shop. 'I'll be back in 10 minutes,' I say to the dog. 'Don't dig.' On my return I run into the middle one, who stopped by on his way back from work and found no one home. 'I ate your cucumber,' he says. 'The whole thing?' I say. 'It was delicious,' he says. I spend the rest of the afternoon watching from my desk as the dog lies on the grass chewing on an outdoor cushion. It's bad behaviour, but it's not a hole. If I am to apply negative reinforcement to the correct crime, timing is everything. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion An email pings into my inbox. I turn to read it, and then, grudgingly, answer it. When I turn back the dog is gone and there's a new hole alongside the gutted cushion. I examine the hole carefully – it looks to be one I have already filled and re-seeded once – before calling the dog's name. The dog appears at the kitchen door, yawning and stretching. 'Come here,' I say. The dog walks across the lawn and sits at my feet. 'What's this?' I say, pointing to the hole. The dog looks at my outstretched finger, and then at me. 'Your new hobby is unacceptable,' I say. 'I'd only just filled it in yesterday.' The dog tilts its head slightly, as if to say: is this about the cushion? 'This is about the hole,' I say. 'Whatever it is you're looking for in life, you won't find it a foot under the lawn.' The oldest one, home from work, walks into the kitchen. The dog runs in to greet him. 'Hello,' he says. 'Why is your nose covered in dirt?' 'You in tonight?' I say. 'I think so,' he says. 'What's for supper?' 'Dunno,' I say. 'Whatever mum brings back, plus courgettes.' 'Ugh,' he says. 'It was four years ago!' I say. 'Four years of everyone rejecting my courgettes!' 'And yet,' he says, 'you persist.'
Yahoo
15-07-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
A neighbor, a hose, and a group of kids—this summer scene is melting hearts across the internet
It starts like any ordinary summer moment: an older man stands in his front yard, watering the lawn with a garden hose. But within seconds, something magical unfolds. A small army of kindergarteners comes running across the grass, shrieking with joy as the man tilts the hose skyward. A gentle spray of water arcs through the air like rain, and the children race through it, arms flung wide, laughter echoing. This simple, sun-drenched scene, shared by TikTok creator @kanatop_, has now been viewed more than 26 million times. And it's no wonder why. In a world of curated family vacations and $500 birthday parties, this video gave us something far more precious: a neighbor, a hose, and a moment of pure, unfiltered joy. Some adults show up for kids with quiet magic, offering presence instead of grand gestures. In this case, it looked like a man holding a garden hose and deciding, in a split second, to share the moment. The kids ran toward the spray with laughter so full it felt like summer itself. And he met them there, lifting the hose higher, turning a routine chore into a celebration. These are the moments that shape childhood. The ones that don't come with invitations or RSVPs. Just surprise, warmth, and the feeling of being seen. A lawn became a playground. A stranger became part of a memory. As one commenter, Annaleed3, said it best: 'That man just made a core memory for those kids ' Related: 10 clever ways to ignite your child's imagination this summer If the comments are any clue, this video struck a deep chord. Many people shared memories of '90s summer energy,' long afternoons outside, and the kind of freedom kids once enjoyed when neighbors looked out for each other. Lîlît Botanicals commented 'This has 90s vibes ' The kids' laughter and the way they darted through the spray brought back moments of sticky popsicles, bare feet on warm pavement, and coming home soaked, tired, and happy. What this video stirred runs deeper than nostalgia. It awakened a kind of longing—for looser summers, for communities that felt closer, and for the small freedoms kids once had when play didn't need permission. A reminder of what used to be common—kids roaming in packs, laughter echoing through cul-de-sacs, adults close enough to step in but far enough to let play unfold. That feeling of a world made safe through sharing, presence, and community—not perfection. Stillapatriot22 put it simply: 'Best thing I've seen all day. Nothing better in life than hearing kids screaming having fun.' Related: Modern parenting is exhausting—I'm giving my kids an '80s summer The comments poured in quickly—and read like one big, collective heart swell. For many, this moment wasn't just wholesome; it struck something deeper, something nostalgic, even cinematic. Novagih: 'He is watering the kinder garden… ' Jjwilbs44 : 'Oh to let kids be kids. ' LLusion: 'this is how i pictured Eddie in the 5 people you meet in heaven' Ladyyy9: 'This feels like a studio ghibli scene ' Thealxndr: 'This should be the ONLY thing kids should be worried about rn' This video offered a quiet reminder: joy spreads quickly when it's shared freely, without expectation. Related: I want my kids to have a 'Sandlot' summer Watching that man and those children play felt like a gentle reminder: joy can live right outside our doors. It doesn't take big events or perfect plans to create moments that light up a child's day. Sometimes, it's as simple as sharing a smile, setting up a sprinkler, or waving hello from the porch. Here are a few small ways to bring this spirit back to your neighborhood: Set up a sprinkler or hose and invite local kids to cool off and play. Share a simple treat—like popsicles or lemonade—on a warm afternoon. Organize unstructured playtime where kids can just be kids without schedules or screens. Say hello and wave to families out and about, creating a sense of welcome and community. Offer your time or presence even if you don't have kids of your own—sometimes, just showing up makes all the difference. The video ends with laughter ringing through the air, sunlight sparkling on droplets of water, and an older man smiling with the quiet joy of having made a difference. It's a simple scene, but it carries a powerful message: childhood can still feel free, joyful, and safe when communities show up. We may live in a busier, more scheduled world, but moments like these remind us what's possible. They invite us to reclaim a sense of belonging and connection—one hose, one smile, and one neighbor at a time.
The Guardian
14-07-2025
- General
- The Guardian
Country diary: An invasion of tiny fungi parachutists has landed overnight
There were none here yesterday, and by the end of tomorrow they'll have deliquesced and disappeared, but for now the neatly mown grass under our feet was studded with 2in-tall parasol inkcaps (Parasola plicatilis). They looked like an invasion of tiny parachutists; in reality they'd risen from the underworld. They were here all along, as a mycelium of microscopically slender hyphae, down among the grassroots. Autumn is the fungal forager's season but fungi, as hyphae or spores, are everywhere, unseen, all the time. Occasionally, driven by the imperative to reproduce, their ramifying network of independent threads collaborates, producing spores in toadstools. Some, like these inkcaps, are ephemeral; others, like the dryad's saddle (Cerioporus squamosus) we'd been watching since spring, grow from teacup to tea-tray proportions, slowly digesting dead wood, taking months to reach maturity. What changed overnight on this lawn, unseen, in the soil? Had several square yards of inkcap mycelium finally accumulated enough strategic reserves and sent signals fizzing along its underground network, with the order to send toadstools breaking through into the daylight? Was rain the trigger, a sudden downpour, softening sun-baked, droughted ground just enough for the fragile inkcaps to emerge? Fungi, evolutionarily closer to animals than to plants, behave in mysterious ways. Some, like the bright orange nettle clustercup rust (Puccinia urticata) that we found distorting stems and leaves of stinging nettles along the lane here, live complicated lives, switching between different hosts. It spends half its life cycle on sedges, unnoticed, before producing its minute clustercups, brimming with spores, on nettles in the summer months. The accolade for the most architecturally impressive fungus went to an immaculate group of oyster mushrooms, growing on fallen logs. In the silence of the beech wood there was a sense of awe when we peered under the tiered smooth grey brackets, with their radiating rows of gills, like the fan vaulting of a cathedral roof. But there was also a hint of menace: Pleurotus ostreatus is carnivorous. Tiny nematode worms, attracted to the perpetual moisture of wood softened by fungal rot, are paralysed by the toadstool's toxin, unable to escape its hyphae that invade and digest them. Under the Changing Skies: The Best of the Guardian's Country Diary, 2018-2024 is published by Guardian Faber; order at and get a 15% discount
Yahoo
12-07-2025
- Climate
- Yahoo
Gardening experts says 'do this urgently' as heat bomb turns weather maps red
Tending to your garden in the summer can be quite the task, with a list of chores that's as long as your arm. Whether it's snipping away at blooms, harvesting your home-grown produce, or leaving grass cuttings on the lawn to prevent it from scorching, there's no shortage of work to be done in the great outdoors. But among the most crucial of these tasks is ensuring your garden gets enough water. READ MORE: New Covid strain with unique symptom now dominant in the UK READ MORE: Pharmacist issues heatwave warning to anyone who takes these five medications During spells of hot weather, it's vital to water your plants, as the sun can quickly parch the topsoil, putting your greenery at risk. However, watering is not always as straightforward as reaching for the watering can or hose. It's essential to consider the timing of your watering to maximise hydration for your plants. Some green-fingered gurus even suggest immersing mushrooms in water to give your plants an extra nutrient boost during heatwaves. Yet, while you're busy making sure your lawn and plants don't wilt under the sun's relentless rays, there's another aspect of gardening that's often overlooked when temperatures soar. In a recent Instagram video, gardening aficionado @cookseyfarms issued a reminder to all those with green thumbs, stating: "Don't forget - your compost needs to be watered too sometimes!". Many green-fingered enthusiasts swear by homemade compost, utilising everything from weeds and shredded wood to vegetable scraps. Not only does compost enhance soil structure, but the Royal Horticultural Society (RHS) also highlights its ability to increase moisture retention in soils that drain quickly. However, if your compost becomes dry, it won't be much use in your garden. The beneficial bacteria and fungi that break down organic matter require moisture, making it difficult for dry compost to decompose and fulfil its purpose. In a video shared by @cookseyfarms, the gardening aficionado captioned: "Dry compost compost! Maintaining the proper water levels can ensure your compost stays active." If you notice your compost starting to dry out, give it a good watering, but avoid soaking it. While it's crucial to keep it moist, overly wet compost can decompose slower and emit an unpleasant odour. "It shouldn't be sopping wet, just like a wrung-out sponge," advised @cookseyfarms. If your compost is too damp, the RHS recommends adding more dry material such as chopped wood, woodchip, straw or even shredded paper to help soak up the excess moisture.
