How many pansies does it take to mow the lawn?
If you're like us, the answer is "two".
I haven't mowed a lawn since the Reagan Administration. The early Reagan Administration. I rented for years and then my first home was a townhouse, so lawn care wasn't part of the deal. When we finally bought our house in the hills, the "yard" was a 45 degree slope of iceplant and, in later years, gophers. The boyfriend, to the best of my knowledge, has never mowed a lawn; his parents were fancy gardener people. But now we find ourselves with a lawn. A big lawn. And it was only a matter of time before it was going to have to be dealt with.
A gardener wasn't financially feasible, so the first order of business was buying a lawnmower, even though we couldn't really afford that either. We hadn't gotten around to it when the family crisis hit and I went M.I.A. But then, as fate would have it, I mentioned our predicament to my parents and they mentioned we could have theirs. Finally, this past summer, with my father in his 80's, they threw in the towel on the yard work and hired a gardener. At first my mother thought it was an extravagant waste of money, but now she's a convert. Not only does the yard look lush and better than ever, but the gardener agrees to carve her shrubs into the odd shapes she's fond of.
So I returned to Bako with a lawnmower, a Honda "Easy Start."
Don't believe it.
This past weekend we wheeled it out in the yard. My father had given me a quick run down - open the throttle and pull the ripcord. Voila! Easy Start!
In practice, not so much. We did as he said and pulled the ripcord.
Nothing.
Again, and again and again. Nothing.
After 20 minutes, I felt like a fool. The neighbors were driving by, highly amused. I could hear Jim, seated in a lawn chair and nursing a scotch at 10 in the morning, laughing from across the street.
I gave up and let the boyfriend try as I went inside and tried to pull up the owner's manual on the internet to see what we were missing. But no, the owner's manual said "open the throttle and pull the ripcord. Voila! Easy Start!".
I went back outside and the boyfriend was beside himself and his arm hurt.
"Maybe it's broken" he said. "Let's buy a new one."
I wasn't about to be defeated by a lawnmower, so I said "no".
And then, like a lightening bolt, the idea hit him...
"Maybe it's flooded".
Whatever that means.
So we agreed to let it sit for awhile, and when he went out and tried it again 20 minutes later... Voila! Easy Start!
Since he had no mowing experience, I took over. It was like riding a bike, I thought. But that proved not to be the case. The one thing I quickly learned is that a lawnmower is not a precision instrument.
I sure hope the daffodils grow back.
