This recent stretch of hot weather followed by tons of rain followed by more sun had my grass taller than Don King's afro.
It rained the day before my fiance, Wes, left on his annual fishing trip, so yours truly was left in charge of the John Deer.
I'm sure my neighbors were thoroughly amused by my seemingly drunken navigation of an acre lot. Just to be clear, I was not intoxicated. The crooked lines and missed patches just made it seem that way.
When Wes mows the lawn, he cuts it in a fancy diagonal pattern that could get him drafted by the Yankees' groundskeeping crew.
I, on the other hand, am focused on not losing a hand, foot, etc. in the mower blade. I appreciate a good lawn-mowing playlist more than perfectly trimmed blades of grass. "Mowing down MCs like I'm mowing the lawn." (Bonus points to anyone who knows that song reference.)
I have a need, the need for speed...which means the riding mower is set to bunny mode versus turtle mode...which in turn meant a few close calls. I almost rolled the mower on the hill on the side of my house, lost control and went into the street, and almost took out a tree and our gas grill. Fortunately, I also have quick reflexes...or I'm just really lucky.
Wes returned home to find an unedged lawn (He didn't say anything about a weed wacker!) and piles of dead and dying grass (I was supposed to rake ALL of those piles?) And don't forget the curvy pattern carved out in the grass.
He wasn't even sympathetic when I told him I got whipped in the face with a tree branch and dive bombed by some weird bird that apparently thought I was trying to take out its nest.
I'd like to think I'm good at a lot of things -- but mowing the lawn is clearly not one of them.
I'm all about a good manicure, but a well-maincured lawn doesn't top my list of priorities.
Thankfully, I managed to keep all of my fingers, so Wes can fix my poor excuse for mowing while I go get my nails done.
He's also better at doing laundry and cleaning the house...soooooo maybe I have time for a pedi too!