Oh, the flowers that grow in the spring, tra la...

It was a red-letter day for me, one worthy of marking for celebrating annually, anniversary-wise. I lost my lawnmowing virginity today! Kind of sad to note that I could reach the advanced age of 61 and never mowed a lawn, but true nonetheless. And I did it without a tutor. I am a self-taught lawn mower person. What a thrill. Actually, it was my yard of shame that impelled me. Our little street is bordered with beautifully kept yards, and then there was mine. So I hauled out the manual, followed by the Craftsman, the red gas can, and the oil. We all convened in the backyard first, because if I was going to look stupid, I wanted to be sure Boo would be the only witness. I filled up my new baby with essential fluids, pushed the red button with authority three times, and pulled the ripcord. Sputter, sputter. So I gave it another couple of burps, and voila! It started! I thought I had better not push my luck, and tried to get the whole backyard done in one fell swoop. Alas, not to be. It actually took three sessions, and much emptying of the grasscatcher as well as a gas refill to finish it, somewhat. I missed some of the periphery, it was just too hot out there. Then I did the front, much smaller area. Hard to describe it as a lawn, though. It is more like a lot of green stuff that covers the area that normally would be occupied by a lawn. If viewed from a suitable distance, it looks like a lawn, sort of. Whatever, it is now all of uniform length. I even scooted around the edges on my bum, trimming and weeding the flower bed. Some things I learned; best to pick up stuff like twigs and dog poop before mowing, don't run over the hose, and the cool of the evening would be a better time to do this chore.