It’s a classic, American, summertime activity… mowing the lawn. The sight, the sound, and most memorably, the smell, is like a wake-up call that everyone’s favorite season has officially arrived. This is something I’ve never done before, because my older brother was assigned to that duty many moons ago. Throughout the moves, I’ve always found one excuse or another to avoid even trying to attempt this seemingly normal thing to do. In order to master this feat, I decided to compromise. In this part of the country, just about everyone lives on a hill, or at least a slope of some sort; there was no way that I was going to mow 1/3 of an acre downhill (keeping in mind that we own a push-mower). Our front yard is a pretty modest size, and actually quite small compared to most. Most importantly, it’s level. When my dad announced that the yard could use a trim, I was on it. By 10:00 I was outside, ready to go. The whole yard took me about a half an hour, and my lines weren’t perfectly straight, but I’d say I did a pretty good job for a newbie. And at the risk of sounding conceited, I think I may qualify as the lawn mower whisperer. You see, our push mower is probably 20+ years old. Why it hasn’t been replaced is beyond me, other than the simple fact that it’s still in working order. Normally, it will take my brother and/or dad several shoulder-dislocating pulls on the start-up cord (please excuse my incorrect terminology) to get the thing started up. Guess how many pulls it took me the first time? One. All of these years I thought the lawn mower was on it’s last leg, and just begging to be revved up one more time, only to miraculously still have a little more moxie leftover for the next time. As it turns out, its just more fond of females. Overall, it was good exercise, and dare I say, fun. In fact, I may just start mowing the lawn more often… the front yard that is.
Love & Summer,