Our lawn mower is from 1965. . .and we have to plug it in. What idiot thought this would be a good idea?
And due to missing parts we have been to lawnmower hell and back trying to get it to start. Until about two/three days ago a little brown box no bigger then my fist showed up in our mail box, half open and containing the missing piece we needed. (this is because our landlord respects our privacy a little too much to the point where she just sneaks around not to disturb, and leaving us mystery packages)
SO Kylee and I were quite excited and got it plugged in and charging. And, (was it yesterday?) . . I can’t remember, but the sun was setting and we started her up.
(keep in mind at this point our lawn has not been mowed in like 3-4 weeks (possibly longer, I have poor judgment of time)
Klyee started right down the middle of the jungle in a straight line, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. . .with me giggling on the sidewalk.
Soon we discovered that the poor little mower was exerting all of it’s power to the point of exhaustion, and so after, what? Two rows? Maybe three. . . . we needed to charge it again.
So after a night of charging and resting kylee had another go, but it died again after little effort, so she gave up and left the mower in the front yard and the end of this sad trail. . . . .in the middle of a jungle, you could barley see the mower. . ..HELL, you could barley see the house.
(I have to curse to keep the reader interested)
SO after calls to our landlord with no answer. . . . we gave up.
And our yard is quite the sight to see. . . and right on 4th north, everyone in Logan gets a good look.
But today a prayer was answered. . .a man, nay, an angel visited us in the form of a tough burly man with a strong voice and tattooed arms.
We were sitting on the porch eating gawackamolly, and he walked up the drive way and asked if we needed help with the lawn. . . . and said and I quote “it looks like crap”
And for the low price of 25 dollars we all watched him from inside, mow our lawn. . . opening all the windows and letting the smell of grass fill the house.
Kylee made him same lemonade.
Biking home from work today, it was a treat to approach our house.
Kylee even trimmed the rose bush.
I love our little Gnome home.
But more important I’m grateful for old burly men who look for opportunities to make money off young girls.
4 comments:
Our lawnmower growing up was the kind you had to plug in. Well, that was the fancy lawnmower. Before that, we had the kind where you push it and the blade spins around.
I'm serious.
Just be glad you don't have that kind. It SUCKED!!
Glad you had a tattooed angel come to your rescue, though. :)
I love this post so much! I love the story, the cursing, and the spelling of gawackamolly!!!!!!
oh, i love it.
Why is it the Gnome home? It sounds so magical.
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