Mowing, My Way

Everybody has their own style of mowing. Well, those of us who mow. Because I’m an outside kind-of-a-gal, I actually like this kind of activity. I learned early on it’s the only place a mother can go that children won’t follow once they’re old enough to know mowing is work. Of course, that was before I had a riding mower.

In fact, when I bought my first lawn mower, the only thing I could afford didn’t  have an engine. But one good thing about it was that I didn’t have to buy gasoline either. It was an antique rotary kind of mower that locked up on every twig or stone it rolled over, and it cost a whopping $25. When my neighbor wanted me to join her health club, I offered my mower instead. If I couldn’t afford a lawnmower with an engine, why would I spend $50 a month to watch myself sweat in wall-to-wall mirrors? Not a pretty picture. 

Her mouth flopped open, her face a blank page. “Why would I do that? I don’t mow.”  In fact, my own mother once challenged me: Where did you come from? 

But in the end, I peeled off more pounds in an afternoon than she did in a month. Whacking grass with a sickle would have probably been easier. Walk, swish, step, swish, like using an emory board to manicure the grass. They used to cut it that way, you know. 

One day I graduated to a brand new mower-–still the rotary kind like the one for 25 bucks, only this one had an engine mounted on top at an additional cost of a mere $300. How I hated pulling on that rope to start the thing. The blades still clogged with the tiniest stick or rock. Blat! Nothing could make it go until I turned off the mower and rolled it over like scratching a kitty’s belly. I’d have to back up the blades until whatever blocked it could be pulled free, and that wasn’t easy. Still, I continued my lifestyle of mowing because it gave me pause in its noisy quietude. But that was a long time ago.

My first riding mower came to me used at the slashed price of $100. It was an old heap of a Snapper mower,  and mowing felt like dancing, because each wheel worked individually as the tires flowed over the terrain. It took more money to keep it running than a new mower would’ve cost. But, that machine  set my sights on a bigger, better, more powerful mower whose seat wasn’t slathered and pinched me through my shorts in all the wrong places. I dreamed of a mower that would cut a wider swath, spin around a tree, preen the yard like a sculptor works clay. And, I would never return to the push-pull-cuss mower ever again.

I am married to a man who appreciates his working wife. One day he took me shopping for my very own brand-new lawnmower. He knows you have to keep your wife in good equipment. That’s the kind of shopping we do together. While I don’t need him with me to buy his socks and t-shirts, he needs me alongside to pick out exactly the right lawnmower. Color aside, he had in his mind exactly what I wanted. 

We drove to the local John Deere dealership and scratched around on the shiny, wild green-flamboyant yellow machines. I had an eye for the Z-trak 757 all-terrain, sunbathing-style mower…zero-turn radius with triple rotating blades that cut a 52″ path. Did I mention we mow a few acres? It takes both of us riding on four wheels, taking the corners on a two-wheel tilt to get ‘er done.

At John Deere they teach you how to drive their equipment right in the shop. “Get on it,” the salesman told me. “Try ‘er out.” 

“Where?” I asked. We were in the middle of a warehouse.

“Right here,” he said.  

I took out two giant boxes that were stacked  in my way–you should’ve seen those guys scatter. I mean, that salesman had said, Always run a mower full throttle. Yes, he did. It had power I could only imagine. When we left we had set the delivery date for. . . immediately. 

So the Z-trak 757 followed us home like a puppy. Now, if I have to stop fast, that dog barks. It’ll take a fresh-planted peach tree out…well, unexpectedly. 

There’s a slight learning curve to get the feel of it. I’ve mowed down a fence, sideswiped the shop, took out a couple of paint buckets, and outran a mad bumblebee, all in high gear. James tells me to slow it down, but that’s not my style. The faster you go, the nicer the breeze. 

The wonderful thing about mowing is that it’s mindless–I can think and plan and sort all my thoughts–talk to myself and nobody talks back. Perusing Z-trak tire imprints on a fresh-cut lawn is a satisfying feeling. The trail, the yard, the chopped-grass scent so enticing I want to hang around outside, throw something on the grill, and kick back to admire my work. The grass stretches and yawns like it just got a good haircut. That’s mowing, my way.