One of the lovely (in the most sarcastic way possible) things about Phoenix is that no one variety of grass will survive here year-round. In order to have nice green lawns when it’s too hot outside to enjoy them, we get to deal with brown, icky, not-alive-enough-to-hold-the-dirt-in grass right now, when it is 72 degrees and perfect outside.
The reason this matters is that I spend a third of my time at work each day outside with small children running around and spewing dust with every step they take. It looks like a real-life Peanuts cartoon, and it means that I feel like one big dirt pile. Lovely. I feel like allergies to dirt are developing as I speak. Maybe I should get one of those face masks people in Asia used during the SARS crisis….color recommendations, anyone?