The Shame ...Oh the Shame

Lawn mowers cutting, edgers making a racket and the odor of fresh cut grass fills the air. Saturday morning in the neighborhood. I really miss not mowing my yard.. I think I loved mowing yards so much because the function of mowing is so mindless, sort of like coloring, one just has to stay inside the lines—actually mowing is more forgiving the coloring because , with mowing I could always go back and fix the problem, coloring once your outside of the lines the mistake is there for all to see, perhaps the mistake can be fixed but usually not. I guess if there is a draw back to mowing the yard, depending on how big the yard is, is the monotony, pushing the angry little mower round and round in an ever smaller circle or just back and forth in row after row for the entirety of the lawn. But I truly think I like the process and the ability to look back on the job completed and see what I had done. I do not get that pleasure much at this stage of my life and disability. I don't know the reason or problem or if there even is a problem but we have not been mowing our yard as we have in years past, so the yard had grown almost wildly which doe not bother me too much except I KNOW that our neighbors care a lot about how their lawns look and I think there by default how our yard appears. Nothing has been said but I could sense a subtle tension growing in the neighborhood. I notice when yard worker trucks go past our house, many time they slow when they see the height of the grass. In fact I have been approached twice while siting on my ramp in the front of the house by “land capers” who want to know if they could be contracted to mow our yard and trim our trees. I always say no and let it go. A couple of weeks ago and I was approached by a industrious Hispanic fellow. He asked the usual, could he mow that yard and I said no and he left. So the next morning imagine my surprise when I heard lawn mowers crank up and I heard regular Saturday morning racket for the neighborhood. I figured it was Lew my next door neighbor but the mowers sounded way to loud and when I looked out the door, it was Pedro cutting my lawn. I of course was still naked but Dianne was dressed and I sent her out to check out what was happening. I heard the mowers shut down and I thought that was that—but almost as soon as they mowers had shut down there were started back up and Dianne returned to tell me that Dan the neighbor across the street had payed to have our yard mowed. In a split second I bewildered, shocked, grateful and humiliated. What was Dan the neighbor doing paying to have our yard cut?? WAS I THAT SLOTHFUL ENOUGH as a neighbor that my neighbors were paying to have my yard look presentable? The feelings I was experiencing was like the time at Barnes n Noble when the soccer mom bought my cookies—but that was different, I never had to see the good Samaritan again but I have to see Dan everyday, I like Dan I actually care when Dan thinks of me. Dianne said Dan just wanted to do something nice for us, so he had the little guy cut our yard once. How sweet! But I got the message—get your yard in order or we will do it gin until you break. So we did. Pedro is now coming over every two weeks throughout the summer mowing the yard front and back—and we can afford it. I still have yet to talk to Dan about the whole thing, I let Dianne thank him—I have waved at Dan a couple of times but no communication about the lawn mowing. I wish my wife would let me buy a riding lawn mower.