Well, it was too early to mow any grass, but after Murray 'thatched' the lawn, there was a lot of dead grass and leaves and junk to mow up and bag. It was a dirty job - dried grass clippings, leaves and detritus billowing up into my face and hair and onto my clothes and down the back of my neck and then there was the dust which affected all other areas of my being. And then there was Murray asking me trick questions like "if the wind is blowing in this direction which way should you turn to avoid all the dust". As soon as the word "direction" or "left" or "right" enter the conversation I panic, and I flash my deer in the headlights look. And he would turn in frustration, wildly gesture with his artificial arms and say a few choice words to himself which were likely not that complimentary to me.
Anyway, I mowed away happy as a clam. I was happy when the bagging tube kept coming apart and dust flew unhindered into the air and fell like snow banks onto my head. I was happy when the bagging tube plugged up and I had to stop and empty it manually while the dust swelled around me. I was really happy when the bags were filled and needed to be emptied because Murray was doing that part for me.
Alas, nothing lasts forever, and it was soon back into the house and laundry and dishes and all those general miserable jobs. But, I have the hope that the grass will grow and that soon I will be mowing for real.
There is nothing more therapeutic than a ride-on lawn mower.
Well, maybe a roto-tiller but that is a story for another day.
/bye
