About a month before I made my trek to Canada to go fishing, I had a problem with my push mower. That first line is a laugh, so you might want to read that again. My “push” mower. We don’t have push mowers. I haven’t had a push mower since I was in my twenties. I have a “hold on and walk behind” mower. I smoke a cigar and look around as the mower does the rest. I might also mention that most of the ideas I get for posts on this blog come when I am cutting the grass, so I find it ironic that now I am writing a post about my lawn mower.
One fine day, the control cable on the self-propelled unit broke. I am quite content to change the oil, the plug, the air filter, sharpen the blade, etc., but anything past that, forget it. I am not a mechanic. I took the cover off and discovered the broken cable and said out loud, “Well, lookie there, a broken cable. Over my head. I guess it’s going to the guy down the street.”
I put the cover back on and promptly cut the grass the old fashioned way, by pushing the lawn mower. Wow, was I spoiled! It felt as though I were pushing my Kia across the yard. Instead of smoking my cigar, I found myself chewing it. Sweat poured off me like Niagara. It really was sad. I think my neighbors were watching and laughing. Not sure about that, but pretty sure. A couple of them are pretty sadistic. When I finished, I wanted to go fall in my pool, but I didn’t have the energy. I thought I might drown. I’m too heavy for my grandkid’s floaties to work on me. I would just drown nearer the surface.
I took the mower to a little elderly guy just out of the subdivision who has a shop. A real pleasant man who said he would order the part and get it fixed for me. I checked back with him after a week, when my grass needed cutting again. He said he hadn’t gotten the part in yet. “Sometimes it takes a couple weeks from these guys.” Really? What is so special about a lawn mower cable?
Bill, my neighbor across the street, knew about my mower and had offered the use of his mower ahead of time. The next day I took him up on his offer. He didn’t warn me about his mower. I broke out my cigar, gassed up his mower and decided to start with my back yard. I fired it up. Very easy to start. Quiet engine, controls were at my fingertips. Here we go.
I lit my cigar and grabbed the bar to start the self-propelled part of the mower. Holy crap! This mower was on steroids. This had to be the world’s fastest push mower. No joke, I had to be going twice as fast as I was with my lawn mower. I needed to be on rollerblades. I was flying. Normally I can finish my cigar in the time it takes to do my lawn. Not this time. I could have done my lawn and a neighbor’s. As for thinking about blog posts, forget it. No time. I had to concentrate on what I was doing. I was worried about crashing into things.
I took that innocent looking mower back to my neighbor and prayed mine would be ready before the grass grew again. Before I left for Canada, I went back to check. “Nope, still no part.” Apparently, this part was coming from a country occupied by ISIS. I also found out later that the Pony Express is alive and well. They shipped it by them across the Atlantic. Yep, really. I even went to Leslie’s Pool Supplies to check and yes, indeed, they have water wings for horses.
While I was away, my dear Lana borrowed Bill’s lawn mower and used it. I wish I could have seen that. She is 5’2”. She had to have been jogging behind it. That is NOT a push mower.
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I love it!ReplyDelete