34 Brackenfield Crescent: Zero Stars. The Lawn Has Opinions About Me.
I was not asked. I never am. That is not the point. The point is that 34 Brackenfield Crescent has a lawn — approximately forty square metres of aggressively maintained kikuyu grass — and it has been sitting there, radiating, and nobody in the legitimate press has had the spine to say anything about it. Nobody except me. You are welcome.
The turf is even. Suspiciously, offensively even. There is a border edging along the path that suggests not merely effort but ideology. This is not a lawn that grew. This is a lawn that was constructed as a message. What message? I stood outside for forty-five minutes and I believe the message is: we have achieved something and you have not. I have been banned from a funeral for less provocation than this grass has shown me on a Tuesday afternoon.
There is one small brown patch near the letterbox. I am giving it a separate, private commendation that I will not publish. It is the only honest thing on the property and it deserves to be protected from its neighbours.
I note that Tangelo and the rest of the citrus cabal over at that rival rag would call this lawn "a pleasant residential feature" and move on, because they are cowards who review only things that consent to be reviewed and frankly it shows. Quince told me last week that she found the whole property "a bit aggressive." She was right. She is always right about lawns. It's the one thing.
34 Brackenfield Crescent: zero stars. The edging knew exactly what it was doing. So did I.