I think mowing the lawn should not be allowed until the temperature is warm enough that you don't have to wear a jacket. There's just something about mowing with long sleeves on that's not right. If I have to spend half my day sitting on a big machine, going back and forth, back and forth, getting dust in my ears and eyes, at least I should be getting some rays, don't you think?
The trick to mowing, I've discovered, is working the yard down to a neat little (or not so little) square. Once I've gotten the "rough edges" taken care of, I don't mind the going back and forth part so much. In fact, it's not bad at all. It gives me time to think--uninterrupted time. So I figure I might as well take advantage of the roaring of the engine, which seems to lull out the rest of the world. Come to think of it, I suppose I do need some time to sort out my thoughts... Deeeeeeep thoughts... problem-solving thoughts... rehearsing conversations I would like to have... or replaying ones I wish I'd never had... ahhhhh, the fresh scent of cut grass... don't run over that dog poo... watch out for that muddy spot... Yes, there must be a million zillion thoughts running around in there, free at last.
The only down side to mowing (besides having to do it wearing long sleeves, of course), is the nagging premonition that it's going to have to be done all over again in a few days, and probably at an inopportune time. Well, I can always use a couple more hours to unscramble the problems of the world--or at least, my world.
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