THE DIY DIARIES
MISSION: MOW THE LAWN
Beginning Circa 2001
Issues & Obstacles: I don’t own a lawnmower and don’t have the money to buy one.
The Plan (#1): Wait until I can find an old-fashioned reel-mower at one of the local flea markets. It will be great exercise, it’s much more in-line with my current “back-to-the-land-self-sufficiency” mindset, and I won’t have to spend money on gas. In the meantime, I will watch my grass grow and find out what kind of native species I’ve got available for using in my hand-made paper artwork.
Outcome #1: I received a certified letter from the City of Mountain Grove (complete with photographs), informing me that I am in violation of City Grass Ordinance No. 120.781: “Grass and/or weeds shall not exceed seven (7) inches in height.” I have ten (10) days to “comply” or I will need to pay a fine or appear in court.
The Plan (#2): Borrow my friend Christie’s lawnmower in exchange for her use of my window air conditioner, which has been used by me for just one season and is currently buried somewhere out in the barn. Going without air conditioning is much more in-line with my afore-mentioned “back-to-the-land-self-sufficiency” mindset, and I really can’t afford the electric bill anyway.
Outcome #2: Mission accomplished. For now. Grass grows, so it’s probably inevitable that I will need to mow it again.
The Plan (#3): I’ll wait and see what happens. Maybe a junk mower will turn up at the flea market. I’m good at waiting these days, usually for the other shoe to fall. My life is all about reacting to the next crisis; I’m getting quite adept at it.
Outcome #3: Ditto Outcome #1 (see above).
The Plan (#4): Okay, I found a junker at the flea market. $25.00. It should get me through the summer. Mission accomplished.
Fast forward one year… Mission: Mow the Lawn
The Plan: Why, dig the beat-up lawnmower out of the beat-up garden shed, of course.
The Outcome: Well, apparently even a beat-up lawnmower requires some kind of seasonal maintenance. It won’t even start. My neighbor, a wonderful, grandpa-ly guy, offers to give it a once over, but even he is unable to coax it back to life. Turns out he’s a bit of lawnmower geek and offers to give me one of his old beaters, in working condition, of course. A big hug and a plate of cookies later, mission accomplished.
Issues & Obstacles: It’s been a wet spring. I can’t keep up with the lawn; you’d think the City would cut a girl some slack. I don’t understand why all the neighbors’ lawns look so good. Oh, yeah, that’s right, they’ve got riding mowers, lazy bums, and I’ve got a double-sized lot. It takes a good 2-hours to get it done to barely acceptable standards. I’ve gotten at least three (3) certified letters from the City this season, and I would need a weed-whacker, a scythe and probably a bush hog and a chainsaw to get it all under control. I always manage to comply before the deadline, but it’s getting ridiculous. If I could afford a truckload of gravel, I’d cover the entire lot.
Fast forward one year… Mission: Mow the Lawn
The Plan: Ditto last year.
The Outcome: Ditto last year (first two [2] sentences), except my neighbor is fresh out of lawnmowers that he’s willing to give away, so Damien asks around and comes up with another beater from a friend. This mower survives through two (2) notices from the City before it, too, bites the dust. This far into the season (a month or so, tops, another wet spring), my neighbor has accumulated enough odds and ends and agrees to take my three (3) defunct mowers for parts, in exchange for yet another rehabbed functioning machine. At least I have a little more room in my garden shed now, which is good, ‘cuz the main support beam gave out and I’m a little scared to go in there.
Whew. Made it through another season.
Fast forward, well you get the drift… Mission: Mow the Lawn
The Plan: Ditto last year.
The Outcome: This is getting old. I’m going to Walmart. (Pause for dramatic effect.) Well, now this is more like it. Brand, spankin’ new, right off the showroom floor (the concrete pad outside Lawn & Garden). Except, damn it, the stupid thing won’t start. Are you kidding me? So, I call Carl, the Department Manager. He tells me I have to call the service guy in Cabool (another small town, 10 miles away). The lawnmower is under warranty, but protocol states that before I can return it, I need to see if it can be serviced. I ask him why that has to be my problem, why can’t I exchange it and let Walmart deal with the service issue. He (not so politely) informs me that he will see what he can do and call me back.
(Side Note: I am still employed by Walmart at this time. I know Carl quite well. He has successfully been accepted twice to positions for which I was also interviewed and subsequently passed over. I try very hard not to hold that against Carl personally.)
It’s my weekend. I can’t get the lawn mowed. Carl has not called me back, so I call the service guy in Cabool. He says he will be out in a couple of days to pick it up, take it back to his shop and find out what’s wrong.
Fast forward one week.
No sign of Carl at work. He’s at a training thing for his latest promotion, which is not affiliated with Lawn & Garden, so now he really doesn’t give a damn about my problem. But then the service guy finally shows up, takes my mower and a week later, brings it back, just in time for the start of my weekend and, no doubt, inches away from a citation from the City. He says he thinks there was water in the gas tank. (Remember the outdoor concrete slab showroom?) He fires up the lawnmower, and yippee, I am back in business. Except it starts to rain. Guess it will have to wait a couple of days.
Two days later:
So damned typical. The lawnmower ran for maybe 5 minutes and then killed. I immediately call the service guy, and happen to miraculously catch him on a day when he’ll be in town. He shows up a couple of hours later, examines the mower and tells me the engine blew…because it had no oil in it! Well, hmmm, let’s see, who was the last person to service the mower? Who delivered the mower and ran the mower? Doesn’t matter, he says. Not covered by warranty. This has got to be a sitcom being viewed by some audience in the stratosphere.
That night:
I go to my manager at work, one of many assistant managers, and explain my ridiculous ordeal to her in totally distressed detail. After listening to my tirade, she tells me to bring the lawnmower in the next day and she will take care of everything. And she did: full exchange for a brand new mower, still in the box. She’s my hero.
Next day:
Get the lawnmower home. Assemble. Mow. I notice that one of the wheels is a little bent, or is it just that the ground is uneven? Take a photograph, for proof in court, ‘cuz I’m pretty sure that’s where this is headed.
Fast forward how many years:
I never went to court, of course. I was done fighting the good fight. I took a different approach. Over the years, any man who happened to mosey onto my property would eventually hear my woeful tale. Any one of them who was worth his salt would make a heroic repair attempt with various degrees of success.
JB Weld, duct tape, bent clothes hangers, sledgehammers, drills and bolts. Eventually, last year, 2013, my neighbor finally permanently welded the wheel in place. Problem is, now I can’t adjust the height on any of the wheels and make good contact with the grass. Result: I need to mow every 7 days. But that’s okay; it’s a great workout.
2014 Summer Mowing Season
Week 1:
I’ll be really surprised if the lawnmower starts. Wow, really? Unbelievable. Mission accomplished!
Week 2:
Rain all weekend.
Week 3:
I can’t get the mower to start. It wants to, but won’t quite go there. I’ve been slacking off a little on my upper body workouts, but this is ridiculous. Neighbor kid to the rescue. Five times in one evening. Every time I hit a thick patch, or a bump, or a rock, or run out of gas, he has to come over and start it again for me. Mission accomplished, over the course of 2 evenings, with the neighbor kid on call.
Week 4:
Rain all weekend.
Week 5:
Ditto Week 3. Grandpa comes out this time and takes it into his workshop to make some kind of miracle adjustment. Awesome.
Week 6:
Rain all weekend.
Week 7 (Monday-Thursday):
Ditto Week 3. Usually if I try enough times unsuccessfully to get this thing started, someone will appear from somewhere to bail me out. Not this time. Every night, over and over, I try and try and try, till my shoulder feels like it will come out of its socket. I am also swearing a lot, loudly, thinking someone, maybe even the cops, will wonder what is going on and stop to assist.
On Thursday, I hear a mower out back somewhere and wonder if some messenger of God has shown up to give me a miracle. Nope, it’s just another neighbor. I flag him down and ask if he would mind trying to start my piece of crap and he says, “Give me 45 minutes.” An hour and a half later, near dusk, I give up.
Just as I’m walking into the house, my neighbor finally shows up. He can’t get it going either. Fine. I’m done. Okay. That’s it. City Wide Yard Sale this weekend. I can’t afford it, but if I can find a lawnmower that works for under $50, I’m grabbing it. If I don’t find one, then I guess I’ll be buying a new one at Wal-Mart instead of a new bed.
Then Frank shows up. (You can read all about Frank in my blog.) Suffice to say, HE FIXED IT. After seeing me have a complete emotional breakdown because I’d finally been beaten by the machine, he came back Friday evening, spent a good 90 minutes tearing the whole thing apart and putting it back together. Then he mowed my grass. All of it.
God did send me a miracle.
Issues & Obstacles: I don’t own a lawnmower and don’t have the money to buy one.
The Plan (#1): Wait until I can find an old-fashioned reel-mower at one of the local flea markets. It will be great exercise, it’s much more in-line with my current “back-to-the-land-self-sufficiency” mindset, and I won’t have to spend money on gas. In the meantime, I will watch my grass grow and find out what kind of native species I’ve got available for using in my hand-made paper artwork.
Outcome #1: I received a certified letter from the City of Mountain Grove (complete with photographs), informing me that I am in violation of City Grass Ordinance No. 120.781: “Grass and/or weeds shall not exceed seven (7) inches in height.” I have ten (10) days to “comply” or I will need to pay a fine or appear in court.
The Plan (#2): Borrow my friend Christie’s lawnmower in exchange for her use of my window air conditioner, which has been used by me for just one season and is currently buried somewhere out in the barn. Going without air conditioning is much more in-line with my afore-mentioned “back-to-the-land-self-sufficiency” mindset, and I really can’t afford the electric bill anyway.
Outcome #2: Mission accomplished. For now. Grass grows, so it’s probably inevitable that I will need to mow it again.
The Plan (#3): I’ll wait and see what happens. Maybe a junk mower will turn up at the flea market. I’m good at waiting these days, usually for the other shoe to fall. My life is all about reacting to the next crisis; I’m getting quite adept at it.
Outcome #3: Ditto Outcome #1 (see above).
The Plan (#4): Okay, I found a junker at the flea market. $25.00. It should get me through the summer. Mission accomplished.
Fast forward one year… Mission: Mow the Lawn
The Plan: Why, dig the beat-up lawnmower out of the beat-up garden shed, of course.
The Outcome: Well, apparently even a beat-up lawnmower requires some kind of seasonal maintenance. It won’t even start. My neighbor, a wonderful, grandpa-ly guy, offers to give it a once over, but even he is unable to coax it back to life. Turns out he’s a bit of lawnmower geek and offers to give me one of his old beaters, in working condition, of course. A big hug and a plate of cookies later, mission accomplished.
Issues & Obstacles: It’s been a wet spring. I can’t keep up with the lawn; you’d think the City would cut a girl some slack. I don’t understand why all the neighbors’ lawns look so good. Oh, yeah, that’s right, they’ve got riding mowers, lazy bums, and I’ve got a double-sized lot. It takes a good 2-hours to get it done to barely acceptable standards. I’ve gotten at least three (3) certified letters from the City this season, and I would need a weed-whacker, a scythe and probably a bush hog and a chainsaw to get it all under control. I always manage to comply before the deadline, but it’s getting ridiculous. If I could afford a truckload of gravel, I’d cover the entire lot.
Fast forward one year… Mission: Mow the Lawn
The Plan: Ditto last year.
The Outcome: Ditto last year (first two [2] sentences), except my neighbor is fresh out of lawnmowers that he’s willing to give away, so Damien asks around and comes up with another beater from a friend. This mower survives through two (2) notices from the City before it, too, bites the dust. This far into the season (a month or so, tops, another wet spring), my neighbor has accumulated enough odds and ends and agrees to take my three (3) defunct mowers for parts, in exchange for yet another rehabbed functioning machine. At least I have a little more room in my garden shed now, which is good, ‘cuz the main support beam gave out and I’m a little scared to go in there.
Whew. Made it through another season.
Fast forward, well you get the drift… Mission: Mow the Lawn
The Plan: Ditto last year.
The Outcome: This is getting old. I’m going to Walmart. (Pause for dramatic effect.) Well, now this is more like it. Brand, spankin’ new, right off the showroom floor (the concrete pad outside Lawn & Garden). Except, damn it, the stupid thing won’t start. Are you kidding me? So, I call Carl, the Department Manager. He tells me I have to call the service guy in Cabool (another small town, 10 miles away). The lawnmower is under warranty, but protocol states that before I can return it, I need to see if it can be serviced. I ask him why that has to be my problem, why can’t I exchange it and let Walmart deal with the service issue. He (not so politely) informs me that he will see what he can do and call me back.
(Side Note: I am still employed by Walmart at this time. I know Carl quite well. He has successfully been accepted twice to positions for which I was also interviewed and subsequently passed over. I try very hard not to hold that against Carl personally.)
It’s my weekend. I can’t get the lawn mowed. Carl has not called me back, so I call the service guy in Cabool. He says he will be out in a couple of days to pick it up, take it back to his shop and find out what’s wrong.
Fast forward one week.
No sign of Carl at work. He’s at a training thing for his latest promotion, which is not affiliated with Lawn & Garden, so now he really doesn’t give a damn about my problem. But then the service guy finally shows up, takes my mower and a week later, brings it back, just in time for the start of my weekend and, no doubt, inches away from a citation from the City. He says he thinks there was water in the gas tank. (Remember the outdoor concrete slab showroom?) He fires up the lawnmower, and yippee, I am back in business. Except it starts to rain. Guess it will have to wait a couple of days.
Two days later:
So damned typical. The lawnmower ran for maybe 5 minutes and then killed. I immediately call the service guy, and happen to miraculously catch him on a day when he’ll be in town. He shows up a couple of hours later, examines the mower and tells me the engine blew…because it had no oil in it! Well, hmmm, let’s see, who was the last person to service the mower? Who delivered the mower and ran the mower? Doesn’t matter, he says. Not covered by warranty. This has got to be a sitcom being viewed by some audience in the stratosphere.
That night:
I go to my manager at work, one of many assistant managers, and explain my ridiculous ordeal to her in totally distressed detail. After listening to my tirade, she tells me to bring the lawnmower in the next day and she will take care of everything. And she did: full exchange for a brand new mower, still in the box. She’s my hero.
Next day:
Get the lawnmower home. Assemble. Mow. I notice that one of the wheels is a little bent, or is it just that the ground is uneven? Take a photograph, for proof in court, ‘cuz I’m pretty sure that’s where this is headed.
Fast forward how many years:
I never went to court, of course. I was done fighting the good fight. I took a different approach. Over the years, any man who happened to mosey onto my property would eventually hear my woeful tale. Any one of them who was worth his salt would make a heroic repair attempt with various degrees of success.
JB Weld, duct tape, bent clothes hangers, sledgehammers, drills and bolts. Eventually, last year, 2013, my neighbor finally permanently welded the wheel in place. Problem is, now I can’t adjust the height on any of the wheels and make good contact with the grass. Result: I need to mow every 7 days. But that’s okay; it’s a great workout.
2014 Summer Mowing Season
Week 1:
I’ll be really surprised if the lawnmower starts. Wow, really? Unbelievable. Mission accomplished!
Week 2:
Rain all weekend.
Week 3:
I can’t get the mower to start. It wants to, but won’t quite go there. I’ve been slacking off a little on my upper body workouts, but this is ridiculous. Neighbor kid to the rescue. Five times in one evening. Every time I hit a thick patch, or a bump, or a rock, or run out of gas, he has to come over and start it again for me. Mission accomplished, over the course of 2 evenings, with the neighbor kid on call.
Week 4:
Rain all weekend.
Week 5:
Ditto Week 3. Grandpa comes out this time and takes it into his workshop to make some kind of miracle adjustment. Awesome.
Week 6:
Rain all weekend.
Week 7 (Monday-Thursday):
Ditto Week 3. Usually if I try enough times unsuccessfully to get this thing started, someone will appear from somewhere to bail me out. Not this time. Every night, over and over, I try and try and try, till my shoulder feels like it will come out of its socket. I am also swearing a lot, loudly, thinking someone, maybe even the cops, will wonder what is going on and stop to assist.
On Thursday, I hear a mower out back somewhere and wonder if some messenger of God has shown up to give me a miracle. Nope, it’s just another neighbor. I flag him down and ask if he would mind trying to start my piece of crap and he says, “Give me 45 minutes.” An hour and a half later, near dusk, I give up.
Just as I’m walking into the house, my neighbor finally shows up. He can’t get it going either. Fine. I’m done. Okay. That’s it. City Wide Yard Sale this weekend. I can’t afford it, but if I can find a lawnmower that works for under $50, I’m grabbing it. If I don’t find one, then I guess I’ll be buying a new one at Wal-Mart instead of a new bed.
Then Frank shows up. (You can read all about Frank in my blog.) Suffice to say, HE FIXED IT. After seeing me have a complete emotional breakdown because I’d finally been beaten by the machine, he came back Friday evening, spent a good 90 minutes tearing the whole thing apart and putting it back together. Then he mowed my grass. All of it.
God did send me a miracle.