Now, theirs two things in this life that I absolutely abhor. One is painting and the other is mowing grass. Mowing grass is, to me, a total waste of precious time. I look at it this way: I walk all over the yard area and pick up bones, toys, limbs, pieces of stone, old socks that my dogs stole from the laundry and hunks of unidentifiable solid material that resemble petrified dog crap. As a matter of fact; it is solidified dog crap. But back to my rant. Then I gas up and try to start my ever reliable mower. It doesn't start. Off I go to the hardware store to buy a spark plug and an air filter. I'm told I have a discontinued mower and that it wasn't a popular model even when it was new. Back in the truck I go for the twenty mile ride to the nearest large town with a decent hardware and a lawn mower repair shop. Then the twenty mile ride back to my trusty mower companion that is waiting for me alone on the lawn. Well, almost alone. The Golden Retriever, Douglas, just raised his leg over the left wheel tread on the thing. With new parts replaced and fuel in the tank, I grasp the plastic handle on the pull cord and yank it back expecting to hear the old reliable engine come to life as it has done each summer for the past five years. But the cord breaks. Another trip to the hardware for a cord, that they have, and back home to dissasemble the apparatus that the cord attaches to. 
And at last she comes to life and off I go following the contraption around the shed and next to the chain link fence. I circumnavigate the yard going under the shrubs and trees enduring scrapes across my face from the low hanging limbs and drooping thorn bushes. The blades occasionally strike a piece of rock or a broken brick that has leached up through the soil due to the thaw process from winter. Then a solid ka clunk and instantaneous stall. That little tree stump wasn't there last year. Yep; the dogs dug around it sometime during the winter and exposed the three inches of a sapling that had been cut down in the past. A mear imposition to my progress. Around and around I walk following this machine designed for one thing; shortening grass. I do this every week of every summer month. And I do another three acres of grass on one of the most hilly properties imaginable. I use a riding zero turn mower for that
Days off are precious. So why am I doing this? Why does anyone do this? How many hours of a lifetime are spent following one of these stupid machines around all over creation to shorten weeds? That's all grass is. It's shortened weeds. And we all try to keep them short. Whats wrong with long weeds? Why do we spend thousands of dollars on machines that require upkeep, fuel, specialty shops for repair and cause so many hours of additional work? Work ten or eleven hours at the office or business, or more, and run home to ------mow the grass. I mean, ok, you mow the grass. Why? Oh, it looks good. Who cares. People driving by aren't going to stop their cars and back up to look at your new shortened lawn. Can you hear them talk? " Oh Martha; this is an exceptional lawn. I wonder what kind of mower he's using." Yea, right! Some folks actually like mowing lawns. I think guys who like it are pretending they are riding a Harley Davidson. Their wives probably won't let them buy a real Harley Davidson, or any manly machine for that matter, and they fantasize with their lawn mower. There's a heck of a lot of things one could be doing with his precious time that are stress relieving and relaxing. Following a noisy contraption designed to shorten weeds ain't one of em. Total waste of precious, valuable time and an absolutely unnecessary task. In short; we do it because our neighbors do it. Neighbors; we'll discuss that in another blog entry. Right now I gotta go put my boat in the water.
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