Mow, Mow, Mow

Our lawnmower had been MIA for most of the summer and when we finally retrieved it from the Hubs parents it was broken so we had to buy a new one. I take lawnmower buying an especially important task as I know that I will be the one banging around with it.

I wanted one that was light, not too hard to push (someday, I will have a riding lawnmower, although that may make not want to mow as much) and not difficult to start (a long hot day can only be made longer and hatter when you are out there screaming at the damn thing to please start as you are yanking the piss out of that pull cord).

The Hubs is allergic to most of the outdoors (or, at least, outside of our doors). Not deathly allergic, just the kind of allergic that makes your legs or arms swell up upon contact with poison ivy, poison oak, or ants (any kind of ant bite will cause his whole foot to swell - Z is allergic to ants as well but not to the poison ivy or oak). It's a strange kind of allergy that causes you to lay on the couch whining about how much you itch and hurt.

It annoys me.

I mow.

Mowing is purposeful exercise and I adore it. I love to look back and see the progress that I have made. I love to show off what I have done. And, although I am tired and sore and sweaty, I feel accomplished and proud.

Really, I like any kind of yard work and have been busying myself with the task of pulling 15 year old poison ivy vines out of the trees around our house. I have purchased a machete and Round-Up. I will kill it! Everyday, I spend about 15-30 minutes chopping away at vines, pulling branches and spraying as close to the roots as I can muster. You can see the leaves turning from yellow to gold to brown day by day.

Unfortunately, my love of this work is not appreciated. The child, while she loves to play in the sand, is afraid that the chickens will eat her if I am busy doing anything else. She screams and cries until I give up and take her back inside. The Hubs says, "Oh, you mowed." When I attempt to point out the other things that I have done, he shrugs and wanders away, complaining of bugs or heat.

Someday, we will have a beautiful yard that we can enjoy (possibly free from chickens) and it will be because of me.