>But will it grow?

>Winter, lovely winter. The snow softly drifting across the yard, the sounds of power snowblowers muffled by the television news announcing school closings (in my dreams, at least), and the crashing of icicles falling from the eaves.
Or the dripping of icicles from the eaves followed by the vision of puddles frozen solid on the steps and front porch, making getting to the school bus a dangerous escapade.
After Amigo survived the adventure mentioned above, I made my way back to the garage to look for rock salt or other ice-melting compounds. I was fairly certain we had run out after the last storm, so when I dug into a big bucket of sand and lo and behold, found a familiar looking white bag with red lettering. I dug in my mittened hands, grabbed a fistful, and scattered it all over the front porch and steps.
Later that day, I emailed Husband at work and asked him if we had a bucket we could keep on the front porch with a little rock salt in it. He said sure, but we were out of the stuff, so he’d stop on the way home and stock up. Until then, I should use the biodegradable kitty litter that would absorb excess moisture and provide some texture to the ice, giving us a little traction in the process.
Out of it? I replied. Then what’s in the bag that’s on top of the gray sand bucket?
He didn’t know. Neither did I.
After school, I checked on the front porch so that Amigo could get in the house without slipping. What was this stuff? It looked like — birdseed? Curiosity got the best of me, and I went looking in the garage. With the benefit of wakefulness and a full day’s worth of caffeine, I took a good look at the white bag with red print. Then I laughed out loud.
It was lawn fertilizer — an old bag of a product we don’t even use any more.
That’s what happens when I try to be efficient pre-caffeine on an early Monday morning.

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