A Mowing Adventure

 

This egret decided to check out our pool.  You do not see the pool because that image would involve the Waterfall Bed, which is unfortunate material for a blog post of its own.  To put it mildly, it is a work in progress.

 

I hope that everyone had a nice weekend and that all of the dads out there enjoyed a happy Father's Day.  My husband went on a fishing expedition and, since he was returning on Father's Day, I thought it would be nice if I mowed the yard for a change.  Now that we're well into June, it has to be done weekly for best results and it had already been a week and a half.  Usually, around mid-July, when it gets really hot and hectic, we give up and pay someone to do it for us.  But we hold out for as long as we can. 

 

But I hadn't operated the mower in over a year, at least.  The last time I tried, I think I got stranded in a trench.  Sunday, I couldn't even remember how to start it.  I sat on the thing for fifteen minutes before I finally figured out what to do.  I thought I could finish the front in about an hour, maybe less, but an hour later, I was still in the middle of the front lawn.  The zero-turn mower was moving so slowly.  Could it be the height at which I set the blades?  But they weren't that low.  Perhaps it was because the grass was still damp.  I chugged along. 

 

Finally, as the sun rose high and the humidity set in, I took a water break.  The mercury was edging up to the mid 90's.  As I climbed back onto the mower, I noticed a long-forgotten lever:  speed.  Of course!  I zoomed off, then, at a hazardous pace, really, considering my morning so far.  But I was in a hurry; I had to go over the grass twice to take care of the thatch.

 

I had originally planned to mow only the front lawn and the gardens on each side of the house.  But then I looked at the orchard.  What if my husband wanted to go check things out?  Should he have to wade through the tall grass?  Tall grass can be dangerous, especially in a field.  I should mow the orchard. 

 

It seemed silly, then, to leave the path towards the burnpile high with weeds and grasses.  So I mowed that, too.  I must admit that I sighed as I realized how silly it would look if I left half the field unmowed.  So I took care of the rest.  I ran out of petrol once and had to run all the way back to the garage to fetch more; that heavy, plastic jug rode on the mower for its trip back to the house.

 

I am glad that I mowed the whole thing.  I don't like doing things by half.  It was interesting, too, and sort of scary -- an adventure.  I don't really know how my husband navigates large rose bushes, fig trees, and other bushy areas.  At one point, roses caught my shirt without my realizing it.  It was only when I felt thorns in my shoulder that I realized a small rose branch was attached to me!  I'm still surprised that the branch gave instead of my shirt. As for the fig trees, I tried ducking under them and of course got slapped in the face.  In the front I noticed poison ivy growing up a pecan tree and into the grass.

  

But I also saw flowers.  The Mexican hat was blooming itself out at the back of the field.  I noticed a coral vine had spread from the back of the next property to our fence,, which made me happy.  I saw that the figs were looking great before I closed my eyes. 

 



 

 

At least I avoided capsizing the lawn mower (I avoided the trenches altogether).  What's really important was that my husband, who works very hard all of the time, was surprised and relieved that it was done and, according to him, well done.  That last part was really appreciated.