A couple of weeks ago, I bragged about how awesome it is to have the kid up the street mow my lawn, and it’s such a bargain, and he mows around the ripening bulb foliage and blah blah blah. His mower has died. Like, seriously died.
I’m not superstitious, but I somehow think it is my fault.
I was in denial for a good week and a half, thinking it was just a part that could be replaced, and while I was in denial, the back yard just kept silently growing. And growing.
You might be thinking, what’s the big deal, just let him use your mower, or mow it yourself, you big baby.
Well, when we moved to this house, we were feeling very green, and we bought a reel mower. It’s really hard work to cut grass with a reel mower- I used to consider it my workout and use it as an excuse to lie on the couch the rest of the day. In an unspoken agreement, DH always did the front, and I did the back- bit by bit shrinking the amount of grass. Trees, shrubs, flower beds, stone patio have replaced the lawn back there, but not fast enough. Last year, when the kid up the street offered to mow, I was happy to give up the reel mower and let him pollute the air. It’s not easy being green.
Maybe it’s not a jinx, maybe it’s karma. I worked on the back today- ankle-deep grass, much of it just flopping over when the mower rolled over it, some of it getting cut. I’ll go the other direction in a couple of days to get the tufts- it’s like when I used to try to cut the Boy’s hair with the clippers- it looked terrible, and we both wound up crying.