Items 
We asked you, "Why are you glad you have made it to the other side of the fence? Why is the grass greener for you?" and offered you the chance to win a bag of our Greener Grass powder, and 10 % off your next shop.
This time, we had one clear winner. It was Katie Mae, and here is her winning entry.
Just outside my door, I tend my small patch of green grass and brassicas. Shaded by cedars and guarded by pup, my daughter, her daddy and I play, eat and talk.
I lay in my Grass, and I roll in my grass. I nibble the grass and it tickles my ass. I get blades of it stuck in the braids of my hair while I taste the dirt, and the dirt stains my skirt.
We strum on our strings, sing loud from our lungs, drum on our thighs and dance 'round our dog. Jump up so high and land softly on lawn. Our plot of grass is a lively one.
And all are welcome to come! Come! Let the grass breathe on your skin. Sit, spin, kiss, or dig, this grass lovingly receives our kith and our kin. Our plot of grass is a loving one.
My daughter, my love, she trots around neckid, her piss trickles down and waters our ground. Tots should be nude! Happily I offer her my sun-warmed boob.
The moon calls me out, and the stars beg me to see them, at night I too piss outside in secret. I pause while my dog marks a tree and look up, feel ground below, heavens above.
Alas, inside my abode, I've got carpet, and outlets, and outmoded phones. The grass isn't as obvious as it is outdoors, so we make it, we find it, we grow grass of sorts.
We paint it and sing it and dance it till midnight. We forage our cupboards and turn down the lights. We sprout grass with stories, fresh water, and closed eyes.
I pull some leaves from a big wooden bowl, he chomps a carrot, she sucks an orange. Together we merge from the root to the fruit, sheltered from cold, protected by roof.
Dad and Rad, their eyes are brown, my green eyes search them for a place to lay down. I am a blade, I need to be rooted. They are my earth, I stand bare-footed.
My grass is green, and from what I have seen, so is most of the grass that grows free. Lay in it, love it, grass loves right back. This is simple. This is living. Loving. Grass.