I mowed the lawn yesterday afternoon for the first time in since June.
Now, you have to understand something about my lawn: I love my lawn. I’m talking sing-songs-to-it-at-night love. I’ve invested a few thousand dollars in it, and about fifteen tons of heart and soul. There’s a lot of sweat, too, but thinking about all that sweat pooled around on the grass is just gross, so I’m not going to talk about the sweat.
It’s not easy for me to let just anybody care for it, but this summer, since we were going to be gone so much, we hired this “gardener,” guy that some of our neighbors use to mow it and make sure the lawn was taken care of. A really nice guy, but more of a “mow and blow” guy than anything else.
Well.
The gardener mowed my lawn . . . and the results blow. Over summer, my lawn got cut way too short, caught a fungus, got sunburned in the middle, and ugly spots of St. Augustine are currently popping up through the formerly pristine Marathon II.
So the gardener has been demoted to just the back yard, which has been in various stages of death and weed infestation since we moved in, anyway, and I’m currently nursing my beloved front lawn back to health.
It was surprisingly soothing and satisfying to take care of the lawn myself. In the past, I’ve always felt like it was a major chore . . . but yesterday, it was different. I put on my iPod, and listened to The Smiths while I cut it in a cool diagonal, pseudo-outfield pattern. The smell of freshly-cut grass always reminds me of growing up, and the iPod provided me with some much-needed isolation while I worked.
About halfway through the job, “Big Mouth Strikes Again” came on, and it reminded me of my awesome Route 66 road trip to Tulsa with Anne. I remember listening to Fred and singing that song with her in Texas or New Mexico or something.
That trip . . . it really was the best trip ever. When I organize all the pictures we took (look for them to be added to the gallery in a few days), I hope I can dramatize the whole trip and make it a story. Something for Dancing Barefoot II: Electric Boogaloo.
Heh.
When I came inside, I went to listen to the audio blog, so I could jog my memory . . . and I discovered that it’s gone, and I can’t login to my blogger account or my audblog account! I wasn’t 100% thrilled with the stuff I produced . . . but I miss it, now.
Dammit.
Ferris wants to eat. Ha! Not for another 25 minutes, baby! I’m MAD with Aplha Male power!!
*cackle*
I get to go to the Dodger game with my mom and dad tonight. Not only that, but I get to sit just two rows above the Dodger Dugout! So if you’re watching the game on TV, you may catch a glimpse of my smilin’ mug (or crying, if the Dodgers stay true to form).
UPDATE: Alert WWdN reader Mugsy just pointed out that the audioblog is still there. It must have been a network error when I tried to access it. Now if I can just get into my audioblog . . . 🙂