Grazing in the Grass

So I got this new piece of exercise equipment today. At least, that's the way Rose sees it. She believes grass-cutting is a recreational activity.

The first cut is always the most painful...drag the mower out of the shed and pray that it will start, even though I never do the pre-winter maintenance, like draining the gas tank. Prayers are not answered, so after several hours of cleaning fuel lines and carburetor, trips to two garden stores for new spark plug, assorted imaginative vocabulary, I finally go to Home Depot and buy a new mower.

Selection is aided by a newly-trained saleswoman ("I reallllly enjoyed my lawn mower class!"), who helps me read the signs on the different models. It comes down to a choice between Toro and Cub. Toro engine looks exactly like the one at home that doesn't run, so I settle on the Cub.

Perky salesperson actually helps me load the mower onto a cart (but not into the Jeep), as well as offering various accessories, such as hearing protectors. I'm thinking that the hearing protectors would have been needed for my family yesterday while I was trying to get the old mower to start. No thanx, I say, the only thing I need now is somebody to walk this thing around my yard for the next couple hours. She smiles, pats my arm and says she could use somebody like that too. I am outta there!