I love you! Well, from March to June. Well, really when the temperature is between 60 and 82 degrees. I also like/love you in the fall when the temps cool off…unless it’s too dry and I look like Pigpen (you know, from the Peanuts cartoon) on wheels.
Oh how I adore the perfectly straight lines that run from the front of our property to the back; except those spots where a random bug flies into my eye, up my nose or into my mouth when I’m belting out a country tune that I’m rocking out to from my newly purchased noise cancelling headphones (because mowing is loud and could permanently damage my hearing).
Mowing, you’ve left a mark on my life, and by life I mean skin. From the farmer’s tan (courtesy of the crew neck short sleeve t-shirt I must wear because bugs like to fly down the front of anything other than a high-necked shirt) to the multi-layered tan on my feet from flip-flops and tennis shoes to the heat rash that develops on my thighs on those warmer days….you’ve left a your mark.
I can count on you, I know. Even though we break up each fall, we embrace one another again in the early bloom of spring after the long winter of longing for the intoxicating smell of the freshly cut grass you reward me with. Hopefully you embrace the smell of gasoline and sweat that I offer you in return.
Until we meet again…
Yours fondly (until it gets too hot),