The Leaves Are Brown and We Have a Fungus… (The Season No Turf Wife Talks About)

I wasn’t going to write about this season of our life…

But then it hit me.

I have to.

Because somewhere, there’s another turf wife going through this—and maybe this is exactly what she needs to get out of bed today.

Or maybe writing this is what gets *me* out of bed today.

Truth is… we are in a really tough place mentally and physically.

Life feels like a whirlwind of panic (well… I’m in a panic—my grass grower, not so much 😆) and complete limbo.

If you’ve been through this, you already know…

This industry is all about “hurry up and wait.”

There are so many moving parts in the hiring process, and it never moves fast enough when you’re the one waiting.

Deep down, I know my grass grower is talented.

I know it’s just a matter of time before things turn around.

But in the meantime?

The “famine” stage can drive anyone absolutely insane.

I was watching a movie the other day… okay, fine—a mafia movie 😂

And I caught myself thinking… this feels a little too familiar.

(No, not the crime part 😆)

But the *family* part.

When someone is down, the way people show up—the support, the kindness, the community—it’s overwhelming.

And for that… we are incredibly grateful 💜

One thing I’ve noticed most through all of this is the shift in my grass grower.

Mentally.

Emotionally.

The realization that it doesn’t matter where… he just wants to grow grass.

I worried about him at first.

But like he always does, he’s put on his big boy cargo shorts ( grass grower fashion) and handled it like a boss.

Maybe he has to…

Because his wife is over here spiraling in the negative-Nelly zone 😆

The good news?

This is just a season.

(A pretty *shitastic* one… but still a season.)

And seasons change.

The wind shifts.

And your entire life can turn around in a moment.

Or in our world…

A growing season.

If you’re in this season right now…

I see you.

And you’re going to get through it! 

TILLTURFDOUSPART.COM 💜

I’m Not Competing With Another Woman… I’m Competing With Grass

“I’m not competing with another woman…

I’m competing with grass.”

That statement is deep once you really think about it.

I’m 24 years in… and there are still times I wish my husband was a typical 9–5 guy with a normal schedule.

Back then, I didn’t fully realize what it truly meant to be a Turf Wife.

You think you’re marrying a guy who plays in the dirt all day on a golf course…

When in reality, you’re marrying into a lifestyle that will keep you on your toes forever—whether you want to admit it or not.

A lifestyle where you can never get too comfortable…

because you’ll be moving again faster than you can blink.

You’re marrying a man who checks the weather like it personally affects him.

Someone whose entire mood can change because of “conditions.”

(Not even kidding… a simple rain event can ruin an evening.

Drought? Yeah… we’re not even going there.)

I also didn’t realize I was marrying into a super-secret grass-growing society that NEVER clocks out.

Like… ever.

Their daily EVERYTHING follows them long after they leave the property.

Now, by the grace of God, my grass grower tries to leave it all in the driveway before he steps foot into our house (took years… YEARS 😆)…

But there are still those moments it sneaks in…

And suddenly I hate the foursome who said his greens felt like putting on an egg crate.

RUDE.

It sits at the dinner table.

It shows up in every conversation—whether I want it to or not.

And I used to take that personally.

I used to think…

Why does this ALWAYS come first?

Why does everything revolve around grass?

Because from the outside…

that’s all it looks like.

Just grass.

But it’s not.

It’s pressure.

It’s expectations.

It’s armchair agronomic wizards with opinions.

It’s fertility.

It’s weather.

It’s your crew.

It’s knowing when to act—and when not to.

It’s 3am calls about irrigation blowouts.

It’s budgets.

Experience.

Priorities.

Membership expectations.

It’s knowing that if something goes wrong…

EVERYONE sees it.

And when everything goes right?

Crickets.

Those same naysayers suddenly have nothing to say.

Not even a “nice job.”

That’s the part you have to figure out.

You’re not competing with something easy to beat.

You’re standing next to something that demands everything from him…

and still asks for more.

That’s why I started calling his courses his “mistresses.”

Because he’s with her way more than me.

(At least I’m way less problematic 😉🤣)

YES… it’s frustrating.

YES… it’s exhausting.

YES… it can be lonely.

YES… there were times I felt like a single mom.

Because this isn’t a normal job.

There is no “leave it at work.”

It’s always there.

BUT…

there’s also the part that makes it all click.

The part that makes you proud.

The pride.

The way he cares.

The way he sees things no one else notices—before they become problems.

The way he refuses to half-do anything… even when it would be easier.

The knowledge.

The respect from his peers.

The moments when people finally do notice.

That’s when it clicks for a turf wife.

You’re not supposed to compete with it.

You’re just supposed to…

learn how to live next to it.

And maybe roll your eyes a little.

#tillturfdouspart 💜

The Turf Wife Friendship Struggle No One Talks About

Oh BFF… Where Are You?

You know what I think is pretty awesome?

The brotherhood of the grass grower mafia… turf mafia… golf mafia—whatever you want to call it.

It’s like a silent acceptance into a secret society. You can reach out anytime, and they welcome you with open arms.

Need info on a job in a new area? Call a fellow grass grower.

Need a chemical or fertilizer rep? Call a fellow grass grower.

Even if they’ve never spoken before, they’re instantly best friends—sharing information, golfing, grabbing a beer, and even coordinating aerification schedules so surrounding courses don’t overlap.

As a turf wife… I think it’s pretty amazing.

I just wish it was that easy for us.

When our grass growers take new positions in unfamiliar places, we don’t get that same built-in network. We have to find our people the hard way.

When my daughter was younger, I threw myself into playgroups and the stereotypical “mom groups.” I was lucky—I met some incredible women and built lifelong friendships.

Fast forward to now…

She’s 22.

(Disclaimer: I actually wrote this when she was 12 😆)

Way too old for playgroups.

So now I have two options:

Option 1: (probably borderline illegal)

Rent a baby so I can re-enter the fast-track friend system.

Option 2: (which smells like desperation)

Hang out at Target with a Starbucks in hand, scouting the “cool moms”… and praying I don’t look like I’m running a human trafficking ring.

I know what you’re thinking…

“Just get a job.”

That would be great… if I had a husband with normal hours who could juggle everything at home.

And while my grass grower is an amazing, involved husband/father—this life just doesn’t work like that.

So I stay.

I handle the schedule.

The activities.

The day-to-day.

That’s my role—and I’m okay with it.

I’m not a needy person (even though this might sound like I am 😆)… but I’ve always managed to find my way outside of my grass grower’s shadow.

So what if this time it’s not easy?

I’m a TURF WIFE.

I figure it out.

Even in unfamiliar places… even without the built-in tribe.

This stage of life won’t be any different.

I’ll find my people.

My weirdos.

I might just have to get a little creative this time…

Or pick up a hobby.

Day drinking, anyone?

(Probably not the best hobby… but definitely a fun one 😏)

Disclaimer:

If you see me in Target clutching a Starbucks, I’m not trying to abduct you…

I’m just trying to find my tribe 💜

----------

If you’re a turf wife… Welcome home 💜

I write the things we’re all thinking but don’t say out loud 😌

👉 Follow me on Facebook so you don’t miss the next one:

https://www.facebook.com/share/1FcPLqkMfd/

And fair warning… it only gets worse from here 😂

If this hit a little too close to home… share it with another turf wife 😏

Or drop your story below — I might turn it into my next post 👀⤵️

Dear Turf Wife: What No One Tells You About This Life

If you’re a turf wife… welcome home 💜I write the things we’re all thinking but don’t say out loud 😌

👉 Follow me on Facebook so you don’t miss the next one:

https://www.facebook.com/share/1FcPLqkMfd/

And fair warning… it only gets worse from here 😂

Dear Turf Wife,

Have you ever been somewhere and had an “ah ha” moment about your life? A moment where you wish you could go back and coach your younger self with the guidance you have now?

Oh, the things I would tell her. The love I would give her. The guidance I would lead her with.

I’d tell her to take that trip (even if it meant eating ramen noodles for a month).

Buy those shoes (quality over quantity).

And that boy who grows grass you happen to meet at work?

RUN. Don’t make eye contact… just RUN.

(Okay, I’m only kidding 🤣)

As a very seasoned veteran of the “turf lifestyle,” I’ve been through just about every scenario and circumstance with my grass grower. Some have been amazing, some have been completely gut-wrenching…

But all of these bumps, curves, and potholes have taught me one thing:

How to press on and be strong.

My only regret?

Not fully understanding what being married to a Golf Course Superintendent actually meant.

They don’t come with a handbook.

No instructions. No cliff notes explaining how to survive this industry.

Can you imagine how helpful that would be?

How much time and sanity a Turf Wife could save? 😆

I’m an open book when it comes to this life, and if I could give any advice to someone thinking about going down this road…

This is what I’d tell you.

Because the truth is…

There are two versions of this life.

And both will humble you real quick!

Assistant Superintendent Turf Wife

He has no name for himself yet. He’s still proving himself.

Which means:

He will work more than you think he needs to

He’s responsible for more than he’s paid for

He will work every weekend, holiday… all of it

He will be the first one to clock in and probably the last one to clock out

You will probably hate his Superintendent at some point.

Why?

Because he’s too hard on him.

Because he’s never home.

Because it feels like he comes before everything.

But learn to respect that man.

He can make or break your life.

Now the fun stuff!

Let’s just get this out of the way:

YOU WILL BE PUT ON THE BACK BURNER.

It doesn’t matter how much you fight it.

When he is home:

he’ll be sleeping

in a bad mood

or on the phone

Sorry… that’s just how it goes.

When HE thinks he’s ready for his own course…

He’s not.

It doesn’t happen overnight.

He still has to earn it.

The industry decides when he’s ready—not you, not him.

You will move. A lot.

Get used to explaining that to your family.

New places mean new opportunities…

and new friends for you.

And always remember:

He DOES love you.

But the course comes first.

He’s building something for your future.

So find strength in yourself.

Be independent.

Have your own thing going on.

Superintendent Turf Wife

Now he has made a name for himself.

But in his mind?

 IT’S NEVER ENOUGH!!!

There’s always:

a better course

a bigger opportunity

a dream job still ahead

He will still work too much.

And still not get paid nearly enough.

You’ll have a love/hate relationship with his career, his course, and his assistants.

They can make or break your life.

Learn to handle the good, the bad, and the ugly.

And hey…

at least now you can diagnose turf problems in your own yard 🤣

And just in case you thought things changed…

YOU ARE STILL ON THE BACK BURNER!!!!

Grass before Arse 😉😆

But now, you have a family too.

So YOU become:

-The queen of your house

-The one holding everything together

-The one making it all work

Praise him when he’s home.

Complain about him when he’s not 😆

And for the love of God…

listen to his stories.

Sometimes… they actually help.

By now, you’ve moved more times than you can count.

Save your boxes. Better yet, invest in plastic bins.

NEVER GET COMFORTABLE!!

You can blink and be moving again.

But also…

Cherish the relationships you’ve built along the way.

Those women?

-They will mean everything to you!!!!

When he has a problem…

It becomes YOUR problem.

His happiness depends on:

-Green speeds

-Root depth

-Blade height

-Sharp reels

-The weather

He’s in a constant battle with dirt, grass, pleasing members, and the weather!

And even when you want to lose your mind…

Hug him instead.

Because the stress he carries?

IT’S REAL!!!!

And always remember:

HE DOES LOVE YOU!!!

But the course will ALWAYS come first.

So be strong. Be independent.

And always keep:

🍺 cold beer for him

🍷 expensive wine for yourself 😆

💜 In Closing…

(Thank God, right? 🤣)

Love your life.

Embrace it.

Never regret your choices.

THIS IS A LIFESTYLE

There is no perfect way to handle it.

No right or wrong way to survive it.

You just…

 Keep on keeping on.

And somehow…

YOU make it work!!!!

And guess what?

 YOU ARE A TURF WIFE!!!!

You’ve got this 💜

P.S. NO… WE STILL DON’T KNOW TIGER WOODS!!! 🤣

#TillTurfDoUsPart

If this hit a little too close to home… share it with another turf wife 😏

Or drop your story below — I might turn it into my next post 👀

Why Superintendents are Married to the Weather

“Everyone complains about the weather, but no one cares more about it than a golf course superintendent.”

— Turf Wife Reality

Being married to a golf course superintendent means you’re not competing with another woman — even though I do constantly name all of his courses. I love watching people’s faces when I say he’s with Roberta, his mistress 🤣

But every turf wife alive is, will, and always will be competing with the weather.

In normal marriages, plans revolve around calendars, kids, and whatever else life throws at you.

In turf life?

My marriage revolves around radar apps. ALL OF THEM! 

I know more about these stupid apps than one normal human should. So much so that I’ve officially dubbed my grass grower “Meteorologist Mark” — the walking weather reporter 😆

If you’ve ever waited to see what the forecast says before deciding whether dinner, date night, or life itself is happening… you’re probably married to a grass grower.

I learned very quickly that in this industry, the weather isn’t just something you talk about — it’s the fourth person in your marriage. (Besides the mistress, obviously.)

In my house, it’s basically an unspoken rule: we aren’t even allowed to breathe when the weather man rudely interrupts the TV.

Like listen, "Walter the Weatherman", … I’m trying to tell my grass grower about the absolutely trivial things that happened to me today. But no. You decide to just start talking, RUDE! 

And why?

It’s not like this TV forecast is telling you anything different than your 20 paid subscriptions to the latest, greatest, supersonic weather app.

I get it.

You need to know the moisture meter is dialed in perfectly.

You need to know if African dust is coming in on a random wind gust.

You need to know if the 75-year flood is about to hit before you spray, fertilize, or punch holes in God’s grass.

Because here's the part nobody outside of turf really understands…

The weather isn’t small talk in this industry.

It’s job security.

It’s budget pressure.

It’s member complaints.

It’s tournament prep.

It’s sleep lost over a 40% chance of rain that may or may not show up — while you’re still spraying-and-praying through the worst drought of your career trying to grow grass.

So while I may dramatically sigh when Walter interrupts my show, I also know radar isn’t just background noise.

It’s the difference between a good week and a really bad one.

Sometimes… it’s the difference between keeping your job and losing it.

Grass growers NEED to be weather aware 24/7.

Their careers literally depend on it.

But still…

Do we need to check three different radar apps while we’re at dinner like one of them is going to tell you something better than the other? 

Absolutely not!

Do we need weather alerts screaming at us at 2:17 AM?

Also no.

Do I now instinctively look at the sky before making weekend plans?

Nope.

Because I’m married to Meteorologist Mark 🤣

When you’re married to turf — a grass grower, a golf course superintendent — you don’t plan your life around a calendar.

You plan it around the forecast.

And if you’ve ever heard the words,

“Let’s just see what the weather does…”

You already know.

You’re not married to a man.

You’re married to turf ! 

Till Turf Do Us Part 😉🙃😆