[This post doesn’t have anything to do with travel, but bear with me; I promise you’ll find it quite humorous. Note to my employers: regardless of the title, this has very little to do with religion, so don’t judge until you’ve read the whole essay.]
If I were to lose my salvation it would happen while mowing the lawn. (What did you think it would be?)
Today I mowed the lawn for the first time this year, and it’s not a task I enjoy. For those that know me, you know it would be extremely rare that you would hear a curse word come out of my mouth. However, there are several reasons why mowing the lawn can get me to spew a few “darns” and “craps” from my filthy vocabulary.
Here’s my list:
1) I hate mowing the lawn. I think this stems back to my childhood when I was forced to mow my parent’s yard with a push-rotary blade mower. As a kid, I thought that was my father’s way of torturing me. All the neighbors had these fancy gas mowers, and here I was going back and forth, back and forth, with these dull blades. Eventually, my father relented and we graduated to an electric mower. Now I was scared to death of cutting the cord and electrocuting myself to death. So, I have this engrained disdain for mowing the lawn.
2) Several years ago I bought a rider mower for about $700. We have about a quarter-acre lot, and there’s an empty lot next to us, so it just made it easier to mow all this in the 100-plus degree summer heat. However, after only two years of operation, the transmission went out on the rider and I was told it would cost $500 to replace and repair. I couldn’t see spending almost as much as I paid for the mower to fix it. So there it sits in our shed.
3) My father gave me a practically brand new mower last fall; I guess he feels guilty about the old rotary mower days. Today I tried to use it. It wouldn’t start. I went to the shed and got out our old mower, and after only a few pulls of the cord – it started. Ugh! The new one was supposed to make life easier.
4) For the past several weeks we have had an armadillo digging all over the backyard. He has systematically dug a hole in every square foot of the yard. My wife said, “It’s no big deal.” Yeah, right. Mowing out there was like mowing on sand. The wheels of the mower kept hitting holes, and my feet kept sinking every-other-step. What a mess the backyard is now. I’m going to have to drive our SUV all over the yard to try to flatten it out and stabilize the turf. If I see that armadillo again, he better have his heart right with God, because it will be his last digging expedition.
Some people have these big grandiose goals of making millions of dollars; me, I just want to make enough money to be comfortable with paying someone to do my yard work for me. That would indeed be a glorious day, and will help to keep me happy, healthy and holy.