When we bought our house I was so excited to get an old fashioned mower... the kind I remember from when I was a kid. I had fantasies of clipping our mossy front yard to the quiet swoosh of the reel - blades whirling - bits of grass fluttering. One day at work I ran out to a nearby hardware store at lunch time and bought a reel mower. So impassioned, I had to have the floor model because it was pre-assembled and I could use it as soon as I got home! The afternoon dragged while I day dreamed about moss, tender grass blades, dappled sunlight and my new swooshy mower.
When I finally got home that evening, I pulled the mower out of the trunk and hurried to the front yard. My first few strokes were smooth and lovely -- the blades and the grass danced. And then -- CHUNK. stop THUMP. stop CHOMP. stop. THUNK. stop
The very trees I intended to do-si-do my lovely new reel mower around thwarted my every stride with their BLASTED ACORNS!
Thousands and thousands of acorns. Each one catching in the whirling blades. Dozens of wheel barrows of acorns every Autumn. The mower I longed for, useless under the canopy of mighty oaks.
It's been a long, tough breakup. I keep hoping things will change. Every once and a while I pull it out and give it a whirl. And a THUMP. And my heart goes ker-plunk.
Almost ten years ago I rushed home with That Mower - a school girl with a new crush. I'm almost over it. I'm finally gonna sell it. And when I do, I'll buy some Ben & Jerry's and sit on the mossy part of the lawn and chuck acorns at the great, big, sassy squirrels.