Letters from Home

I’m Not Mowing The Lawn…

The First… and the reason I’m not is not at all simple.

Despite the fact that I drive the heck out of our zippy five-speed manual transmission Mazda, and the fact that I drive our minivan like I need to get the kids to the raceway poddy–NOW! — despite both of THOSE facts, I feel complete terrified when I am sitting on our riding mower.

It’s irrational, I know. It’s unlikely that I will launch myself out of the seat and land in front of the mower with my body suddenly trapped underneath a thick vine, and then slowly watch the mower bear down on me, its blade screaming with laughter until I am slowly sliced to bits on a perfectly lovely, sunny day.

It’s irrational, I know, to feel certain that I am suddenly going to lose all control and go careening into the pointy-est of all bushes, where the pointy-est of all branches will be perfectly face-level. AHHH! … Thus, forever ruining my chances in Cycle 15 of America’s Next Top Model (the big cycle for MILFs with ALL sorts o’ junk).

OK, so those are the reasons. Hey, I’m NOT psychotic. Like everyone, I just have irrational fears– goaded on by an elaborate imagination.

SOOooo, the upshot of all this is that I have VOWED to myself (and now aloud to all six of you) to learn to confidently mow our entire lawn by the end of the summer.

And when I say “confidently,” that means:

  • steering around all the obstacles without slicing them down (sandbox, newly-planted lilac shrubs, largish house, Tati (and any other siblings), and an assortment of half-inflated balls;
  • mowing the smaller front yard, which includes going around the dastardly pavers that I drove over the LAST (meaning “final”) time I drove the mower. In which I dessicated the blade and caused our grass to grow above window-level while waiting for Colin to get a replacement blade;
  • being able to get the mower in and out of the shed, which of course, is up a half-rotted, termite nibbled ramp and through a door– a door which is smaller than the mower.

So, what are the bets? Anyone want to wager? Thoughts?

6 thoughts on “I’m Not Mowing The Lawn…

  1. I won’t mind if you mow from time to time, and I certainly won’t assume that it’s “your job” if you do give it a whirl.
    My opportunities for mowing were always restricted to weekends, and now that the small people are involved in a pile of weekend activities the window of opportunity is shrinking. If you don’t mind having a somewhat shaggy lawn from time to time, leave it to me.

  2. I think there’s nothing wrong with irrational fears. I HATE our power mower, too (although not a riding one). So, I have NO qualms about relegating that task to RJ….just like he’s responsible for snowblowing in the winter. Power tools are just not my thing apparently (unless I’m using them for woodworking!) 🙂

  3. Wow, 6 of us now? It was 4 in the last post–that’s pretty good growth in one day! 🙂

  4. Perhaps, Bonnie. Colin IS good at it, and I DO fear that once I start doing it, he’ll suddenly think that it’s “my” job now…

  5. I think you should continue to avoid mowing the lawn–for whatever the reason. Colin is so good at it. And if you decide to overcome the fear, you can practice at my house.

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