Adventures in Mowing

OK, so some of you know a little about us, but for those who don't here goes some info (for those of you who do, hang in there, I'm going somewhere with this)... A year ago this month we moved to a little town about 15 minutes from Billings, Montana's largest city (population 120K). Our property is a little over an acre. It is so quiet and peaceful. We absolutely love it here. Now, you may be able to visualize the amount of grass that is located on an area that size. Of course, the homeowners out here keep immaculate yards. Devoting all weekend to yard work, sometimes (instead of going to church, I might add).(See how I'm bringing this back around to the title ; ) Because of Riky's job and our church commitments, it just makes sense for the boys and I to take care of the yard work.

So...last year when we moved here, we had a push mower. The first time I mowed, the mower that my mom had for about 15 years blew up about 9/10 of the way through the process. I finished the rest of it with our weed eater. Then we borrowed a push mower from Riky's brother and dun-dut-dut-da you guessed it, I blew that up too. I was only two laps around that time. My neighbor then volunteered to mow for us until we could get another mower, if I paid for gas and watched her children while she was doing it. I took her up on the offer, and was not the least bit offended that she did not offer to let me borrow her mower. Of course, she could see the lawn mower graveyard from her house and I am certain that she did not want to make a deposit into it. We then had a man from church give us his old riding mower. We felt so blessed. He told us that it was knocking the last time that he used it, so Riky did not feel it was safe for us to take a chance at blowing it up until his brother could look at it. So it sat looking sad and unwanted for a few weeks. It finally was checked out and deemed perfect! Blessing of all Blessings. Even the knocking was gone. I felt overjoyed as I mowed along with the rest of the neighborhood. I chose Thursday mornings to strike out on my 4 hour mowing escapades. Finally fall came, but then recently spring returned. I mowed for the first time and woe of woes, the starter went out. Enter neighbor to the rescue riding her green craftsman mower instead of a white horse, but my heroin just the same. The gear that turns the thingy was rounded off on one side. I went to three different places and finally found someone who could fix it. I mowed again on Thur. It had been two weeks, so the grass was thick. It bogged down on me and wouldn't start back up. Did anyone realize that gears come in twos? There is an innie and and outie (for lack of a better description). Well, they do, and if you replace one, you have to replace the other...So back to the starter repair place, but, of course, he only repairs innies, so he sent me to the outie store across town. That guy sent me back to the innie store, because the manufacturer had changed the outie part and the innie would not work with the new outie. So like a yo-yo, back I went. These men were very helpful and kind to poor frazzled me, but still. The boys are always with me and I was having a hard time keeping myself from laughing hysterically. I have discovered that it is so much easier to start my thinking with "Riky is never going to believe this" and laugh--than to cry while I am driving. So, the next Thursday, Riky had both parts replaced and I started mowing. Four laps later I ran up onto a concrete landing and bent the blade so I now had a high spot right down the center of the row... Then I ran over a really big stick(Jeffrey's walking stick! he cried later) that I could not see because THE GRASS WAS SO TALL. I broke the blade housing. Enter neighbor, stage left. Back to ANOTHER parts place. Finally, practically brand new mower under me (piece by piece) I completed the task set before me and did the whole lawn in one four hour stretch. Mission accomplished. Test passed. Blazing colors of glory. Beautiful green grass (still with the high spot, though, Riky couldn't bend it all the way back). Then yesterday. I was ONE lap into the yard and you will never guess... The STEERING WHEEL CAME OFF IN MY HAND. I shut off the mower and called Riky. It was all that I could do to get the words out. I was laughing so hard that I had tears in my eyes and the boys came around to see if I was alright. Of course, his response was "you broke it again" in a bewildered voice. I was able to fix it by myself and continue on. At that point I looked out on my lawn and realize that at some point the blade housing has come loose and one side of the strip I am cutting is digging down to the roots and the other looks like I haven't even been there yet. Do you wonder what I did at that point? I turned right back around and kept on mowing. It is never good to live in the past and I had already been there and done that (strip of grass, that is). I got my lawn done, though. Riky is convinced that I just do not want the task of mowing. I have told him and others that if I don't want to do something that all that needs to be done is for me to do it badly and he will take over. That is not the case this time, but if I didn't already know that, I would completely be on his side. That IS how it seems. I am sure that there is some lesson or moral to this story, but I am in no position to see what it could possibly be. Oh, the grass that seems to be the bane of my existence is depending on God for its life giving moisture because our pump went out about three weeks ago and we have no sprinklers to speak of to water it with. Joy of Joys, maybe it will stop growing now. My neighbors will right up some petition that forces me to water it bucket by bucket...Will it never end?