Thursday, June 20, 2013
me and the mower
It was the household duty I had staunchly opposed doing for all time. Sharp blades, loud noises, shards of cut grass and hidden twigs hurdling at your shins... nuh uh, mowing the lawn was not for me.
I won't bore you with the circumstances of how my anti lawn mowing ideals were shattered. Let's just say, the engineer had given me strict instructions; the grass had to be mowed, he could not mow it, and straight lines and overlapping your passes were key. All that and, oh yes, how to start the thing. The engineer comes from a long line of pristine lawn-keepers you see.
Armed with the wisdom imparted on me, I set out to the task at hand. Blades of green grass that frankly looked short enough to me sprawled before my eyes.
I pulled the long cord on the mower remembering to "really put your body into it." Nothing. I used a little more twist action on pull number two, but alas. By pull number three, I decided to combine the twist acton from number two with a resounding grunt. And we were off.
The mower and I started off easily enough. It wasn't until pass four or five that it seemed to gain 20 pounds (a rough estimate). Bent at the waist and seriously questioning the mowers so-called "self-propelled" feature, I was undoubtedly a sight to behold.
In the end, I accomplished the overall goal; the grass was shorter than it had been. As for those straight lines, well I decided to go with something a little more abstract.