With summer rampaging through the Midwest,a topic of conversation the other day was lawn-mowing. It's one of those things I refuse to do. Given my spoiled upbringing and living situations, this has been a feasible stance for me to take on the issue. Oh, I've done it before. But I struggle to think of more than a handful of times that it happened. Why this attitude? Well, for one, the smell of fresh grass nearly shuts down my lungs. I have to hold my breath and start smashing buttons on my AC if I pass a mowing crew on the highway. The other thing is that I am just not outdoorsy. I don't like bugs and I don't like being hot. I read somewhere the other day that there are things we just subjectively like or don't like, and trying to put that in rational terms that others will understand will just drive us plain crazy. I don't know if that applies only to the subjective fields of art and music or could be expanded to even personality quirks like hatred of mowing. Nevertheless, I find introspection to be a fun mental exercise, so I guess I'll continue with my thoughts even if they are mere rationalizations.
My step-mom asked me what I was going to do when I got my own place and simply had to mow the lawn. My first choice would be to figure out a situation in which I don't have a yard. But I would kinda like a kitchen garden some day, even with the bugs and the hot. And since it seems like I'm destined to take the family chihuahua with me when I go (he's firmly attached himself as my cat's best friend), it would be nice to have a yard for him. My second response was that I would somehow find an ancient push mower to use, but that was mostly a joke response because I didn't realize how feasible it would be. I just liked the idea of having an old push mower. I think part of it is my desire to not acquire things that will end up breaking in a way that I can't fix them. I was raised by carpenters and electricians, so I have a lot of intuitive problem-solving abilities when it comes to these things, but I know my limitations. Add too many parts, and that's it, I might as well buy something again. Plus, with the push mower I wouldn't need to worry about gassing it up and pulling a bunch of levers and throttles or whatever those contraptions have. I wouldn't have to worry about bothering my neighbors if I decided to do it early in the morning before it got too hot. It might even be a bit gentler on the grass and not throw out as many allergy-inducing pieces. All around, I like the idea.
I think I also have an attachment to the idea because I have memories of my cousins and I being maybe 9 or 10 and playing with an ancient, rusty metal push mower around my aunt's front yard. Why were pre-teens being entertained by a tetanus-inducing heap of scrap metal? Well, because I had one of those awesome childhoods that was un-blemished by helicopter parenting. If you wanted to wander the woods all day, crossing the creek (pronounced "crick") on dubiously structured overturned logs and jumping into the deep parts of the water that later turned out to be wastewater drainage ponds, well, those were your mistakes to make. That last part? Totally happened to my cousin and his friend. I was part of the contingent that did not jump into that water and got to laugh as he got hosed down in the yard and smelled, literally, like shit for the rest of the day. We also played make-believe Boxcar Children, and our grandpa would take us down to the country dump-site for various things to help our little imaginations.
Anyway, I was so shut off to the idea of lawn work until I went on this little foray that I didn't even realize they sold modern push-mowers. I have tunnel vision when I go to places like Lowe's or Menards because I hate going there if I can avoid it (wandering a store the size of a city block so I can find the exact door hinge that I'm looking for but will probably not find when I do reach the correct aisle is just not my idea of fun), so it's not like I'm browsing the shelves for the latest trends in home maintenance. One of those trends, green living, means that when I do get my own place with the tiniest yard I can find, there will be numerous choices for my hippie yard-work desires. Woo!
As I started reading, I thought: "Dude, I have never mowed a lawn in my life. Literally. Never." I continued reading, and thought, "When you have enough money to have your own house, you have enough money to hire someone to mow your lawn." But then I got to the end and I was like, "Yeah! Engine- and gas-free yard maintenance in the Midwest! THANK GOD (or someone)."
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