Real world adventures

I’ve been back in Sheridan for less than a week now and it’s been pretty nice. I’ve eaten at some of my favorites restaurants and food trucks, seen many of my favorite people, slept in errrrday, enjoyed the first few pumpkin spice latte of the season (not being in a town on the day of release was one of my all time biggest fears while still on the PNT), and spent the most fabulous time with the love of my life, Emmy puppy. Though too much free time has never been one of my favorite things, I can’t complain about having literally nothing to do. My mom, though, decided she needed to fill my time because she’s “busy at work all day.” It all started the other evening when she gave me a task she thought I’d enjoy doing. She was right. I’d love to transplant her hostas. As she was showing me where she’d like them replanted, she decided the lawn needed to be mowed. She said she’d planned on doing it but since I had all this spare time, I could earn my keep. Then she said, “well before you mow you’ll have to scoop poop.” Then it was, “Could you water the plants?” And then, “the bird feeders are empty…” I haven’t mown a lawn in years, not out of laziness, but because I’ve never needed to. Everywhere I’ve lived in the last few years hasn’t required me to mow. The landlords always took care of it. The last time I remember mowing was at least 15 years ago. We lived out of town with an acre of yard and had a riding mower. Someone would get the mower going in a circle around the center of the yard and plop me on it. Away I’d go, singing loudly to myself because no one could hear me, mowing in a giant circle. Now my mom wanted me to mow her much smaller lawn with a push mower. A PUSH MOWER! We went to the garage where she filled the mower with gas, refreshed my memory on how to start it, and told me it was self-propelled. Thank goodness. I quickly left home that evening as to not give her time to extend my list of chores. Morning came quickly (10am) so I dressed and headed to Starbucks, as is my routine. It wasn’t until a little after noon that I got back home and figured I should start mowing. It was hot, and after scooping two dogs worth of poo, it was even hotter, but I had to get it done. My mom had said she didn’t care what direction I went or if I used a pattern at all. I was glad to know I couldn’t screw it up, but after I started, I was wishing she’d given me a little more direction because as it turns out, I mow like I vacuum. If that means nothing to you, I’ll say that I vacuum like I shop in a clothing store. To be more specific on that comparison, I’ll tell you that my brother hates shopping with me because he says I shop like a bumblebee. Still not enough of a visual for you? Well, it went a little something like this… I started at the edge of fence and mowed along the perimeter of the lawn. Logical, right? This was working just swell, until I ran into where a tree was planted. Without even thinking about it, I was now mowing in a circular pattern around the perimeter of the tree rather than the square perimeter of the lawn. My lines weren’t matching up now, as I’m sure you can imagine. “Okay,” I thought, “ I’ll just mow in sections. One side of the tree at a time…” I started back into mowing in a square shape and knocked that first section out and moved onto the next one. Four sections later, I was feeling good, until I stepped back. Now there were long patches of grass between where I’d stopped mowing in a square to mowing in a circle and then back to mowing in a square. Part of me thought I should just start over to be sure I got every inch of the yard, but that would take too long and I still had the side yard and both sides of the driveway in the front yard to get done. I did my best to catch all the missed areas in the back yard and headed to the front feeling confident I could redeem myself. Unfortunately, this section was just as bad. It, too, had a tree planted in the middle. As do the other two sections. I worried about what the neighbors thought as I audibly laughed at myself, pushing the mower through the grass with what I’m sure looked like no rhyme or reason while wearing white sneakers, a black dress, and giant fashion sunglasses. I’m sure it took me three times as long as it should have and I’m also sure it looks like crap with the wheel marks curving and crossing all over the place, but the lawn got mowed and I did my best, as was all my mom had asked. Will I be asked to mow again? I’ll keep you posted. Have the hostas been transplanted? I’ll keep you posted… For now I’m inside enjoying the air-conditioning. The other chores will get done soon, as I have nothing but time these days.