beating back the brush
It has to be said: I absolutely hate mowing the grass. Fortunately for us all, I’ve self-imposed a limit on myself to only stating that once per blog post. Because this is a topic I could easily get carried away with. I think my disdain of this chore stems from the fact our property is basically one huge hill. Or because the forest is constantly encroaching further and further into the “yard” and bringing with it a mass of stinging insects, all of which hate my guts. Or maybe I just generally hate wrestling with the lawnmower. Whatever the reason, I put it off for as long as humanly possible. And then I pay for it.
My attitude about the lawn is different than most. Take Jeremy, our pest control guy, for instance. Though he never says so out loud, I can see the horror in his eyes when he surveys the weeds in the sideyard that have reached the windowsill. But I’m all Dude, you can still see over the top of them so we should be good for a few more days. About this issue I’m a glass-is-half-full kinda girl.
But eventually, even I reach the end of my tolerance. So armed with long sleeved shirt and jeans (because I will likely never mow in shorts again) and Wall-E opening credits rolling on the TV, I informed an already semi-catatonic Jackson of my intentions and also “If you see me run toward the house doing the chicken dance and screaming, DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR.” Amen.
It’s not all bad. Doing something I hate makes me appreciate the people who have done it for me. And I am incapable of mowing the yard without experiencing a severe gratitude toward my husband. To date I’ve only mowed the yard… three times in my life, all during this deployment or last year while he was gone on extended training missions. Of course that means I have very little experience or practical knowledge.
So with that in mind… I started mowing at 9:00 o’clock Thursday morning and to say I was wrestling the mower, would be an understatement. The plowing seemed unusually difficult. And about half way through things finally clicked in my brain. Maybe I read somewhere or remember Caleb saying once that you aren’t supposed to mow wet grass.
And then I came inside and googled “what happens if you mow wet grass?” I am wiser now.
I TOO hate mowing, and have not done it in about 6 years. We finally broke down and hired someone to do it, because we both hated it so much and we would have stand-offs about who was going to do it every time. It has made our marriage MUCH happier. LOL
At least you weren't stung this time!