May 7, 2007

After six years of fighting with an ancient lawnmower that grew more ornery every year, I finally told my frugal self to take a hike. A salesman talked me into a model that did everything but cook breakfast, and I’m not sure a hotplate to rest on the engine block wasn’t an available option.

I drooled over the self-propelled rear wheel drive. “How fast does it go?”

“From creep to six miles per hour,” he reassured me. Reassured, because I could tell he figured I’d be more inclined to the creep end of things.

I took it.

Two people wrestled it out of the box and into the trunk of my little Taurus. But, of course, there was only me to get it out of the trunk…

Three weeks later, after my back recovered, it was time to try it out. I added the gas and oil and hooked up the bagger, feeling very much empowered. I turned the key and the mower roared to life. I squeezed the power lever and the thing popped a wheelie and I was off.

I’d forgotten what a nuisance bagging can be. And how dirty. And how heavy lawn bags full of clippings are. I lasted for six bags before I decided it was time to try out the mulcher. That went better. Unfortunately, I soon realized that the lever was too large for my small hand. I had to take my hand off the lever to rest it when I was on a flat surface or going downhill and didn’t need it. But I made good time.

The following week, I was a pro. Six miles per hour? No problem! I whipped around the yard. My hand didn’t even hurt from the lever. And, just like that, mowing was fun again.

For what I paid for the mower, I could have hired a kid to do it all summer and then some. And, almost as soon as I broke out the mower, my neighbor’s son offered to mow my lawn.

I said, “No way! This is my fun.”

Who mows a lawn for fun?

I do!

5/7/07