Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Watching someone unrelated to me cut my grass

Because of my recent illness, I am, for the first time ever, paying someone to cut my grass.

I have always cut my own grass. Before having my own home, I cut the US Navy's grass and before that I cut grass at the Granite Run Mall in Delaware County, PA and even before that I cut my father's grass.

I have along history of cutting grass and up until now I thought I enjoyed it, but I have to tell you it might be awfully easy to have someone keep cutting the grass.

Can only recall two extended periods when I did not cut my own grass.

1. After gall stone and bladder surgery in 1997. For two weeks in May of that year, the Chancellor cut the grass here in Mount La-La. After the first cut she came back in the house and had two things to day:

- What was your best time?
- Does the handle have to vibrate so much?

I told her this is not a competition and that I had never timed myself but I guess it took me an hour. She proceeded to tell me that was because I stopped and wiped my brow before each turn. I explained to her that I come from a long line of brow wipers and roughly translated, that is exactly what our name means in the original Italian -  "He who wipes the brow" (it used to be "He who squints from sweat" but that was before the invention of the moppine.)

As for the vibrations, that just comes with the territory.

2. When my kids took over. Sort of.
Nothing will improve your prayer life like having your 14 year old start cutting the grass. Especially ones that are future Italian and Philosophy/Anthropology/major to be named later majors. These are all good things to study (with the possible exception of something called Anthropology of Food which is in Youngest Son's course load next semester - but I digress). Let's just say my kids were never the most mechanically minded or inclined. I was forever thinking that they were going to reach under the mower or adjust the wheel height while holding the "dead man" bar on the handle to keep 'er running. ( This is not as uncommon as you might think, I actually worked with someone that did this - a grown man for crying out loud. Imagine what stupidity a 14 year old can come up with a whirling death machine when compared to a grown - albeit stupid - man).

Besides this a generation that thinks the internal combustion engine is a magical device that never needs gas or oil.

Ohh and they sucked at the actual "cutting of the lawn"  It wasn't incompetence as much as apathy - they just didn't care if an entire strip of grass in the middle of the lawn was missed. Frankly, I was ecstatic it was done - in what ever condition.

I think they spent more time selecting just the right playlist on their iPod then they did pushing a mower.

Other than these times (and there may be a few more like when we went on vacation or something) I've cut my own grass but these guys do such a great job. They trim.(Trim!) and edge. (Edge!)

Also, they beat the Chancellor's record by at least 15 minutes through the use of more manpower and better technology. It's a win-win.


2 comments:

ilpaesaggista said...

Who's blog is the "my lexicon" post from?

suburbanstories said...

I have no idea, I google'd "moppine".