2649. A wet summer

It had been a wet summer and Leslie decided it was time to go out and do battle with the overgrown lawn. His wife Rose was in the kitchen and since retirement the weather had kept them inside and they were tripping over each other’s feet.

Leslie had been mowing the grass for about three quarters of an hour when an ambulance pulled into the gate.

“You called for an ambulance?” the ambulance attendant asked.

“Not me,” said Leslie, “but with the length of grass I’ve been cutting I could just about do with an ambulance!”

The ambulance crew smiled, looked puzzled, and went on their way.

“Honey!” called Leslie from the front door. “Did you see that ambulance turn up for no rhyme or reason?”

There was no answer.

2411. Mother to the rescue

When Chadwick mowed the lawn in his bare feet his mother gave him a lecture:

I don’t know how many times I have told you to wear proper footwear when mowing the lawn. Your father’s cousin lost a finger while mowing the lawn by fiddling around with the grass-catcher while the lawn mower was still running. You don’t seem to realize just how dangerous these things are. You have also left a width of long grass over there by the gate. I wish you’d take more care and do things nicely. People can see our lawn from the road and goodness knows what they think when they see the haphazard way the lawn is mowed. You wouldn’t get a job as a caretaker at a sport’s field. Also I don’t know how many times I’ve told you to use the grass-catcher. This mowing the lawn without a catcher leaves grass clippings all over the place and I get grass on my slippers when I go over to the fence to tip the used ground coffee beans into the neighbour’s. The grass is impossible to get off simply by wiping shoes on the front door mat. I have to take my shoes off and remove the grass by hand. Now since you appear to have cut off all your toes I’d better get inside and make a phone call. I hope you realize the cost of an ambulance.

2138. Higgledy-piggledy

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.

2102. Enough to make you sickle

When will the rain stop? Sabrina gazed out the window and sighed. The summer school break was about to begin. She had enough problems finding things for Travis to do when the sun was shining. But a summer of rain? Goodness.

Travis was a boy who liked his own company. He wasn’t forever going and playing with friends. He liked to do things on his own, such as mowing the lawn and picking fruit. He liked fixing things and working out how things worked.

Sabrina was not keen that he spend all his summer time sitting at the computer. And there it was; the summer break had begun! And rain, rain, rain.

Was that a break in the clouds? “Why don’t you mow the lawn even though the grass is wet?” suggested Sabrina. So he did, and after half an hour the lawn mower died.

Rising to the challenge Travis purchased an old sickle. He read on line how to use it safely – with a sweeping arm motion away from the body. Before long he got the knack of it. Rain or not, he couldn’t wait for the grass to grow! The place was a picture.

“How do you manage, with all this rain,” asked many a passer-by, “to keep your place so tidy?”

“Travis uses a sickle,” said Sabrina proudly.

It wasn’t long before someone reported Sabrina for allowing her son to use a dangerous implement. Social Services called. Such irresponsibility trusting a boy with a hazardous sickle.

Yeah, like a motor mower is any safer.

1012. Mowing

I’ve been meaning to tell you for some time – something important about the forthcoming presidential election in America… As you can possibly see, I am about to start the lawn mower and mow the lawn. I quite like mowing the lawn, but these days the lawn mower gets a bit temperamental when it comes to starting. It used to start on the first pull of the rope, but now it seems to take two or three attempts before it flutters into operation.

There! See! I just pulled it once and it didn’t start. So again! Here goes!

…..… the event………………………….. and even if………………………………………………….. on… Hillary………….. sounds crazy but……………………………. and even if she did we…………..… on the other hand who knows? …..utterly corr…………………………..… thirteen daisies make a……………….……….…………………………….… Donald whenever……………………….… that…………quite idio……………………………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………………………

finished………………………. mulcher…….. rain………..

There now! All done! At last I’ve got that off my chest.

 

639. Mow the lawn!

© Bruce Goodman 11 July 2015

Owen’s wife was forever going on about how he should mow the lawn.

“Stop lounging on your backside reading the paper,” she said. “Look at the length of that grass.”

“It’s alright for you,” Owen would say. “I work all week and it’s nice to have a few hours off on a Saturday.”

“Poof!” she would say. “You men are all the same.”

Anyway, that was last Saturday. Owen took the following Friday off work and mowed the lawn. He tidied things up a bit. He wished she was about to harp about it. Still, it would be good to have things looking nice for her funeral the next day.