That Lawn's SMOKIN'!

I hate mowing the lawn.

I had never mowed a lawn until my ex and I split five years ago. I never had to.

I don't mind the actual MOWING of the lawn. If it's a straight, flat surface. No hills, no pits.

It's the lawnmower itself that I actually hate. I'm on my third in five years.

They're my nemesis.

Won't start when I need it to. Works fine on a rainy day.

Does it need gas? Is it out of oil?

Was that a branch, a rock, or small animal I just ran over?

Someone, please, just get me a freakin' GOAT!


Last week, the lawnmower wouldn't start.

Yesterday after work, I finally took a look at it.

Lots of gas. Must need oil.

I put oil in the beast, and told Alec (who has only recently taken over this mowing chore) that he was good to go.


Did you know you're not supposed to OVERFILL a lawn mower with oil?

Have you seen how tiny that 'Fill' line is on that stick?

Do you know what happens to a lawn mower that has too much oil in it?

What happens ... is that your neighbours think your vehicle is on fire, and want to call the fire department.

Thankfully, what they do instead, is show up in your front yard, shouting "What's wrong with your mower?"

A minute earlier, after first starting it, when Alec turned to me and asked through a cloud of smoke, "Is it SUPPOSED to do this Mom?"

I guess "Keep going Hon, It'll burn off!" wasn't necessarily the right answer.



Don't worry. He shut it down after a few steps. Neighbour and I drained it. The ex happened to show up and he ended up mowing it instead.

And, it looks great.

Neighbours might even say, "That lawn's SMOKIN"!

Oh yeah ... they did.

K.