As I ponder the thought of disregarding lawn work for up to four years, it makes me feel an edenic peace. Don’t get me wrong, I like my lawn to match the height of my neighbors, which honestly is the only thing that keeps me mowing it. I used to sweat and labor over keeping mine shortest first so the neighbors had to keep up with me, but that ship has sailed. We all agreed this summer we would mow once a week. I may even be stretching it to once every ten days.
When I was a kid, I never mowed the lawn. There were certain people in my family who commandeered the task and I was happy to avoid it. But when hubby started working overtime and the kids got older, I had no excuse to avoid it any longer. That thing is more temperamental than a woman…well you know. I get all suited up, ipod in pocket, nasty shoes on, and the darn thing won’t start for me. Of course when I lament to my husband later that evening, he sighs at me, walks outside, and starts it with one pull.
I’m the one who insisted we have a push mower. “It’ll be my fitness-for-life plan” I said. I figured with shoveling in the winter and mowing in the summer, I could stay lean and trim practically forever.
Which also leads me to consider eyebrow waxing and who came up with that? Am I simply keeping up with the Joneses with the length of my furry brows? Maybe we should leave it all as God intended. Or maybe not.
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