Barry mowed the lawn for exercise. He rather enjoyed it; enjoyed it that is until his wife, Jacinta, decided to supervise.
“Mow in straight lines!” she would order from the raised veranda. “Don’t make the mowed lines criss-cross and mishmash. Get a bit of order into the pattern. It’s all higgledy-piggledy.”
That took the fun out of it. Barry hated mowing the lawn after that.
It so happened that Barry’s new job took him away from home, sometimes for a couple of weeks on end. Jacinta had to mow the lawn.
It was all criss-cross and mishmash. The mowed lines were all higgledy-piggledy. It afforded Barry a great deal of pleasure to survey it when he came home.