Sometimes, I am a difficult person to live with. I do things that make no sense. Although, to me, those things make perfect sense. Like our yard, for instance. We have two large weed patches in the front yard. I call them the north weeds and the south weeds, based on their location around the driveway. I mow these weeds. Travis doesn’t think this makes sense, but if I didn’t, nature would take them back. I’m not ready to concede the land back to nature yet. I don’t know what I want to do with that portion of property just yet, but I’m not just giving it up. So, I mow the weeds. 

Both patches have their own personality. South weeds are easier to mow, but it has hidden stumps and two property marker stakes that are barely visible, but are ready to rip open Big Green (my John Deere mower) if I am not paying attention. North weeds are treacherous. It is steep with hills that drop and angle at the same time, risking a tip on the mower. It has taken me years, but I have a circuitous pattern that seems to work, and doesn’t tip the mower. But there are also a lot of trees. Last week, the trees were the problem. 

See, I like to win. So, if I think I can mow a certain area of the weeds, then I will do everything in my power to do this. Last week, I decided that I could get Big Green between two trees. I couldn’t. Before you judge, I had reasoned that if I didn’t fit, I could just back out. What I didn’t consider was that I was on a slight downhill, and I was mowing a foot of weeds, which would be under my wheels. So, I rolled right into those two trees, wedged tight due to the hill, and stopped. And there was no backing up. So, there I was. In the past, I have managed to get myself out, or phone into the house for assistance. Fortunately, Travis was standing at the top of the driveway, watching my crazy mow the weeds. He doesn’t approve of my mowing tactics, usually because he has to repair the mower when I fail. I always help repair Big Green!

So, I hand signal for a little help. Trav shakes his head, puts down his drink, and slowly (oh, so slowly) saunters over. He wants nothing to do with this plan, but can see no way out. He is, in fact, married to me. I believe unsticking mowers is in the marriage contract… buried there between “promise to be true” and “til death do us part.” The death part is always lingering when you’re married to me. So, he comes up behind Big Green. I actually remembered to shut off the blades! So, there’s that. He didn’t even ask if I did! Risky! At this point, I yelled over the motor, “SHOULDN’T YOU PUSH FROM THE FRONT? ON THE GRILLE?” He shook his head no. 

I know I wasn’t thinking right. I spun those wheels. He pulled back. The wheels caught and launched Big Green backwards, right into Travis. Big Green’s tow hitch took out Trav’s shin. When Big Green stopped moving, I looked back in time to see Travis try to get up. That was followed by him gimping around on all fours. I can only imagine the stream of profanity as he elephant hopped up the driveway, trying to put distance between him and me. I yelled, “ARE YOU OKAY? DO YOU NEED HELP?” He replied, “I THINK YOU’VE HELPED ENOUGH!” So, I continued to mow. Hey, he looked fine! And I told him to push from the front. I felt a little bad when I saw the deep gouge in his shin. When the wheels caught, they caught. Behind the mower was NOT the place to be. In retrospect, I maybe should have hit the gas a little lighter, so the mower didn’t launch. Next time. And there will be a next time. Because I will mow every segment of grass that I have access to. That’s how I win. Against the lawn. 

My top picture today is from the back 40 of my yard. It looks so tame. Don’t be confused. I have tried to put the mower into the lake by “winning” too close to the edge. The bottom picture is the north weeds. I’ll be here all summer!