Yesterday I mowed my lawn for the first time! It took about 2 hours to do.My wonderful father got the electric mower started and walked beside me the whole time. I was so grateful for his company.
I wore earplugs and felt embarrassed that the entire neighborhood could hear what I was up to.
I wore grubby clothes and felt a bit embarrassed when my former student walked by. I waved, knowing he could probably see the fear on my face, as my focus immediately returned to the daunting task at hand.
I didn't do so well with the self-propelling feature. When I engaged it, the whole apparatus took off ahead of me and I had to run, chasing after it! Who on earth would want to cut their lawn that fast?!
I hit one patch of dog dirt (eww!!) and mowed over lots of decorative ferns, simply because I didn't want to have to pull weeds up from within them. Dad and I have the same manta: As long as it's short and green, it doesn't matter what it is!
I decided to put the setting on the mower as low as possible so that there would be more time in between cuts. But in certain places, I cut the grass so low that you could see the dirt of the ground!
One guy, who was jogging through the neighborhood, even came over to help me out when Dad happened to be working the garage. He advised me that my setting was much too low, and although I tried to explain my technique to him, he was immediately on his knees, tinkering with the contraption and raising the height.
I thanked him as he jogged away, realizing the quandary he now put me in. I was half-way through the lawn at this point, and so I now faced the dilemma of a lawn of grass mowed in two different heights. Half the lawn was only 1 inch tall; the section I was now mowing was 3.So Dad and I compromised. He changed the setting to 2, and I kept a lookout for the jogging man who was hopefully too far away to notice us now.
When the lawn was finished and the sidewalks were swept, I was a sweating, stinking, but accomplished mess. I had lost one earplug and a bit of my dignity, but I gained calluses on my hands and little more home ownership credential.
Later that night, Mom texted this to my phone: I heard the lawn is a bit much to do. Mr. Right, hurry up to 444, Lisa needs you!
