I think it's mocking me

Before our black thumbs got a hold of it...We moved into our house in March of this year. When we moved in, the yard was beautifully manicured. Beautiful azaleas out front in the garden, lovely purple cabbage decorating the walk, Burr Oak trees listing lazily in the wind, and a ocean of green green Bermuda to sink our toes into. It was a sight to behold. In fact, check it out. It's beautiful.

This lovely piece of land, unlike the other homes on our block, did not come equipped with an in-ground sprinkler system. No problem, I think. I didn't grow up in a house with a sprinkler system. Neither did he. Installing one costs HOW much? We'll just water our lawn ourselves, thank you very much.

It's now August, and we've had more 100-plus degree days than I care to recount. With the two of us holding down full time jobs and our worthless dog refusing to do any kind of yardwork, the lovely landscaping fell into something of a state of disrepair. Not that we weren't trying. Every evening we'd come home and water all areas of the yard thoroughly and drench the flowerbeds. We filled up watering bags to keep the trees sated day and night. We were really, honestly, trying to keep things lovely.

Despite our best efforts, we soon realized that not only were we fighting a losing battle, but that it was being highlighted brilliantly by the fact that our neighbors were not involved in any such war with their yards. Their yards? Lush and green. Like jade masterpieces in the summer sun. Our yard? Some stage between Texas desert and the Serengeti.

In the end, we ended up giving up. We had sprinklers installed to help salvage what little dignity we had left with the neighbors. Not only is the grass some sickly shade of yellow, but it now has two inch wide dirt trenches running throughout where the sprinklers were put down. There is a ray of hope though. We now have green patches. It's only a matter of time before it's back to the flowering masterpiece it once was.

And my Knockout Rose is STILL a knockout.