Please Don’t Make Me Mow the Lawn

My lawn - after the lawn was mowedI wish my lawn would stay at its current height. It should just freeze and stay as is. It would be nature’s version of Mrs. Havisham.

You may be wondering why I want to overturn the rules of nature.

First off, let me say I do appreciate nature. I love to hike. I enjoy seeing the trees in bloom in the Spring and the colorful leaves of the Fall.

But I hate mowing the lawn.

Don’t think I’m lazy.

I’m really, really not. It’s just I hate mowing the lawn.

By the way, there are plenty of chores I don’t mind doing. I’ve told you multiple times of my odd affinity for food shopping.  I don’t mind making the bed. Washing the dishes is no big deal. Vacuuming lets me escape into my own thoughts.

Clearly, I’m domesticated.

Yet ever since I was a teen, I have not liked mowing the lawn. I blame the lawnmower. I know the saying a poor craftsman blames the tool. However, before you leave me with that title, listen to the facts.

Back then, the lawnmower and I were engaged in a perpetual battle.  I had to yank the cord multiple times before the lawnmower would turn on. Then while mowing, the lawnmower would go off. For no apparent reason!

Every time the lawnmower went off, I had to walk it to the pavement and go through the process of starting it once again.  Why did I walk it to the pavement? Well, the lawnmower would not start on the lawn. Can that be any more ironic?

I think the lawnmowers know how much I hated using them. And therefore, every lawnmower my family had over the years gave me this issue.

My permanently calloused hands remind me of these former battles.

Now that you know my history, you must be able to understand why I hate mowing the lawn.

But, wait there’s more (no, I don’t mean ginsu knives).

At the risk of sounding like a whiny kid with all this complaining, and I know there is nothing worse than sounding like a whiny kid except if you are a whining adult, I’ll go on.

Mowing the lawn is boring. I find it so boring that I rush through in order to finish as fast as possible.

In addition to that, our lawn has brown spots where lawn should be. When we first moved in, I tried planting seed. When it didn’t work the first year, I tried again the second year. When it didn’t work the second year, I grumbled and tried to forget about it.

So, I spend an hour of my time mowing the lawn, and in the end, it still doesn’t look particularly good. It’s like putting a suit on a pig. Nice suit but still a pig.

Not inspiring.

Here’s my wish: the lawn would just stay short. The height of the lawn could stay petrified like astroturf.

You know how when you see a young person who you haven’t seen in a while you’re always surprised at how much they’ve grown?  It’s as if you expect to see their height stay frozen in time.

My lawn could take the place of those young children. People could walk by my house and think, “Wow this lawn hasn’t changed a bit.” Wouldn’t that be comforting?

My brown patched lawn would provide stability. That is something I could be proud of.

P.S. What chores would you like to avoid?

Sometimes, I Feel Old

Sometimes, I feel old when…

Don’t tell me you never have this thought rumble through your head. Maybe, it arises when cars pass you on the road, or when you think three times about a particularly decadent dessert, or you hear yourself saying, “In my day…” I could go on, but you get the idea.

Most of you who read this blog are somewhere in your 20’s, 30’s, or 40’s. None of which is old. However, if you are like me, you do things that you thought you wouldn’t do when you were younger. Or maybe, you do things that at one point you would laughed at someone else for doing such a thing.

In my most recent post, I once again alluded to food shopping ( As I mentioned, this is one of the household chores that falls under my domain. And I really don’t mind handling the food haul. Now, I don’t think that makes me old. Weird maybe, but not old.

Courtesy of

Courtesy of

However, there are some weird things that occur on my food shopping jaunts that make me utter the words, “I feel old.”

Last week – and it wasn’t the first time – I found myself singing and bopping my head along with the music that came over the supermarket sound system. I don’t remember the song, but you know it came over a station such as 99.4 Happy or 101.1 Sunny, or 104.8 Back in my Day. Of course, it could have also been some preprogrammed list of all your ‘favorite soft hits’.

Are you kidding me? Me? Now, I was never some long haired, leather sporting, ripped jean wearing, tattoo exhibiting, ear ring dangling, head banging guy. Shocker – right? Hey, but I had a Black Crowes poster in my apartment at college, I slept out for Who tickets, I blared Twisted Sister’s, We’re not Gonna Take It till my father said, “Turn down that damn music.”

Courtesy of

Courtesy of

Now, I’m bopping down the aisles of Shop Rite while trying to select the best looking bananas, hoping for sales on my family’s favorite items, and praying there will be no line at the checkout counter.

Oh G-d, I am getting old – aren’t I? Don’t answer that. Please. Imagine what I’ll feel like when the 2050’s come around.

Is it just me? What makes you feel old?

P.S. Please note I now have a Facebook like button and a WordPress like button. I had wanted a WordPress compatible like button since I started the blog. I’d like to thank Ingrid from for her alerting me about such a button. By the way, I highly recommend her site. I am not a do it yourselfer but do enjoy her blog.

So, continue to make your comments and feel free to press like as well. Thanks.