Blade Runner

(Perhaps I should call it Blades of Glory?)

I do not know how these things happen to me, but they do. And, they ALWAYS happen when the wife is out of town. I swear these reports are true. (Who the hell would make up this crap?)

I've tried to be a good bachelor-ette and have kept myself busy doing things like laundry, weeding, vacuuming, washing the floor by hand, etc. Since it was going so swimmingly, I thought I'd kick it up a notch--I'd mow the lawn!

To illustrate how often I mow the lawn, I offer you this: the neighbor was driving by, literally stopped her car and yelled out her window, "the world is ending!" Smart ass.

Mowing the lawn is not simple in the Addiverse. (1) There are rules to mowing the lawn--like, no cute designs in the grass. I can live with the rules. (I didn't say I'd follow them but I can live with them.) The wife has it down to a science; she can get that lawn mowed in 1.5 hours. That's because she follows the rules and has patterns strategically designed for optimal mowing capacity. Me? I make circles around the trees and meander across the tundra in no semblance of order. This means it takes me much longer to mow the same lawn. Since the wife was out of town, I thought bending the rules might be okay. It's traumatic, though--I can only be so creative before I've pushed the envelope too far. Balance. Aim for balance, I tell myself...

(2) There are two mowers--one push, one riding. I'm not well-versed in gassing them up, starting them, running them, lowering/raising the blade to the correct level, using them in general, cleaning them (don't YOU clean your lawn mower once you are done?), putting them away. (They are placed in the garage in a very specific manner from which I shall not deviate.) Since there are two of them, I am twice as illiterate as I would be if there were only one machine to operate.

(3) There are all sorts of gas cans in the garage--one for the snow blower, one for the weed whacker, one for the lawn mower, etc. It's hard to see in the dark garage what the cans say when still blinded by the sun. I have no idea what gas goes in what machine...as I ran out of gas during today's mowing, I could only hope that the cans are labeled correctly.

(4) There is no doubt that mowing the lawn while the wife is out of state is a bad idea. This traumatizes me just thinking about it, but I thought it would be a wonderful "gift" if I mowed the lawn for her--imagine her surprise when driving up to the house and the lawn is done.

Yeah, I'm giving her a surprise.

It only took one Master's Degree and 15 minutes to figure out how to get the riding lawn mower out of the garage and started. I was pretty dang proud of myself. I was getting ready to zip around the yard when I realize: "hey, I have to use the push mower FIRST and do the perimeter of the yard." I turn off the riding lawn mower, go get the other mower, prime the push mower, use every ounce of strength I have (and that ain't much) and get that pup going. I scalped the yard in a few places but that went better than I anticipated. As I was feeling a bit creative, I decided to go diagonally in making mowing patterns, so I push-mowed a bit more than the wife probably does. I thought things looked pretty spiffy and was glad that no appendages were removed during the first leg of the lawn mowing activities.

Then, it was back to the riding lawn mower. I fire her up and away I go. At first, things are fine. I had the blade too low and noticed there were lots of "grass lumps" and was quick to realize that was bad--the wife does NOT like grass clumps. I pull over, stop the blade, raise it up a notch, lower the blade and get back to mowing. I'm enjoying the beautiful day, smiling in the sun, blades of glory chomping through the lawn, riding back and forth across the backyard....and.....I notice....

"hey, that doesn't look like I mowed there," even tho I had just mowed there.

I made another pass and turned around--hmmm--I mowed but the lawn wasn't mowed. I thought maybe I had forgotten to lower the blade so I checked that. No--I have it in in the proper position. Still, no blade cutting anything. I stop and start the mower, then engage the blade. Nothing. Perplexed, I have no answer. I am certainly NOT going to look under anything and I'm not sticking my hands anywhere (I learned my lesson, Master Reiki). I realize there is only one thing I can do: ride the riding lawn mower to the driveway and push-mow the entire yard. It's not like I can stop now that I've started.

I am hear to tell you that I earned those chocolate chip cookies and strawberry smoothie. In fact, I earned the cookies, smoothie, Ghiradelli chocolate and McDonald's iced coffee I found necessary after surviving the mowing of the lawn.

Of course, I ran out of gas. And, of course, I ran out of gas from the further point from the house. I drag my sorry ass to the garage, squint at the various gas cans, consider my options, pray to the God of Gasoline that I pick the correct can, drag the gas can out to the yard, fill up the mower, manage to spill gas on myself, drag the can back to the garage and start all over.

Although I like exercise and I like being outside and I like doing things like mowing the lawn, I did not exactly enjoy "hand" mowing the entire lawn. I'm too old and it's too big. Yet, I persevered. I could not give up or in. What seemed like three days later, I was done.

Done mowing. Not done with the entire ordeal. (Was this lawn mowing business my idea? What was I thinking? Do I have an undiagnosed case of Pig Flu warping my brain? What the hell am I gonna do about all those grass clumps?)

At this point, I realize I have to put the mowers away. I am kind of afraid to put the riding lawn mower away as there is obviously something wrong with it and I don't want to burn the house down due to a bad lawn mower issue. I decide to leave it parked in the shade for a few hours and then roll it in. I put the push mower away and go forth to find chocolate, smoothie and cookies. I also indulged myself in an episode of Xena Warrior Princess.

I go back outside and now have to maneuver the riding lawn mower into this small, specifically-designated space. It's kind of like parallel parking, only with no power and without mirrors. I'm here to tell you it took me seven swings to get the thing in there, and even then, I didn't do it correctly. Unfortunately, I got it wedged into the spot and couldn't move it. I needed an eighth swing but had no way of doing it without assistance.

You bet your bippy I left that thing right where it was. I heard an iced coffee calling my name.

I'm not sure what the wife will think when she gets home and sees that the lawn is manicured. I'm not sure what the wife will think when she sees the riding lawn mower mushed into the corner. I'm certainly not sure what the wife will think when she hears the riding lawn mower is broken. I'm hoping it's not broken and that it's just that I'm a moron and was doing something wrong....I'm skeptical about that but I can think it......

I'm pretty sure the wife will see a lot of pushing mowing in my future, especially if the problem turns out to be expensive.

Here I've been avoiding the counter tops and I should have been avoiding the lawn. Who knew? I think I shall step away from all facets of household-type duties for the reminder of the wife's tour of the Cheddarlands. Xena and chocolate. Xena and coffee. Xena and ice cream. Sounds like a winning plan to me....
****************************************************