I remember when I was a teenager, one of my chores was cutting the grass. I would get on our big old riding mower and chug around my parents' land with my headphones on, listening to music and singing at the top of my lungs. It was pretty fun. I think I only hit a tree once.
Well, somewhere along the way, this chore became my husband's. And I kind of forgot how much fun it can be. Truth be told, he sort of scared me away from it. "Oh, the land here is so rocky. It's easy to hit the blades on a stone. Be careful of the hills - you don't want to tip over." I admit it - I'm a chicken. It sounded awfully risky. So I let him do it.
Well, Saturday, I was faced with a choice of either A) keeping BIL company while he worked on our new room or B) cutting the grass. I gladly let Hubby keep his brother company and took what I saw as the easier of two tasks. I was a bit trepidacious at first, but cutting grass sounded easier than sanding drywall.
Let me tell you, I had a wonderful time! I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Just me, along with my thoughts, cruising around the better part of two acres all alone. Granted, it's spring and not hot yet, but I have totally been missing out! The only bad part was when I drove too close to the ash pile and got a faceful of black powder. But as soon as I finished, I told Hubby I would be happy to take over this chore from now on while he stays inside with the boys. There is no where else in or out of the house that I can be that alone for that long!
And then I get to take a nice long shower. Mmm, bliss!
