The End......

Worn out! Haggard! On the last legs! Decrepit! No, no, no..not me! Although, some might argue that point! I am referring to my lawnmower. It is dead! Completely obliterated! Last summer, I admit that I had problems with this same machine. The poor thing was crippled for a while until Hubby welded the front wheel back into place. I had literally ripped the wheel from the frame thus making it quite difficult to maneuver the mower at all. A three-legged..er..wheeled mower is beyond use..but as I said it was welded back in place and I was eager to cut again.

I have this desperate need to cut most every thing that stands in my way when mowing. I have no qualms about attempting to mow brush that is higher than my head. This might be ok if I had a larger, stronger machine. I have a small "push" style mower. I cut everything with this same mower..everything! Son also cuts. He has the new mower. "Why," you might ask "does he have the new mower and I the old?" It is a matter of cutting methods. He carefully avoids sticks, brush, rocks, trees, boulders, houses..ok..so that might be stretching it a bit, but you get the idea. I have a tendency to be a mite rough with my machine so I get stuck with the older of the two.

Today, I was merely cutting around the pier when I had the problem. Yes, the "grass" here had grown quite tall and thick. Actually, to be truthful, I was pushing the mower into the underbrush that obscured the view of what might be hidden..items such as driftwood. I promise that I did not intentionally mangle the mower! It just happened. I shoved it in the head-high forest and the motor simply died. I pulled, tugged and heaved. Finally, the machine came out of the dense brush. I tried to crank it again. I pulled on that goofy rope until I wore a blister on my hand. Now what? Then I heard Son's lawnmower stop! He came to my rescue! When he came into view of the mower, he stopped and stared. "Umm..Mom..are you sure you want me to try to start this thing?" I assured him that it just needed a few more cranks and it would be up and running. I am always the optimist when it comes to my machines! He stared at me and I got the feeling that something might be amiss. He simply pointed to the gas tank. "I think it has died for the last time, Mom." he stated. Sure enough..the gas tank was laying on its side looking quite destroyed. My lawnmower seem unrepairable.

When Son managed to drag the poor, lifeless machine to the house, he started pointing out other problems. The carburetor was ripped from the top of the tank..the tank had a huge hole busted in its side..the engine was busted from the frame..the handle mount was bent and the back wheel was wobbly. I really did an outstanding job! He said he had never seen anything like this before! Son called Hubby.."Hey Dad, ummm..Mom might need a new mower." Hubby stopped hammering on the deck long enough to peer at the mound of parts that used to be known as a lawnmower. "What happened to that thing?" he questioned in an astonished tone. "Ummm..Mom used it?????" Well, I like that! As if that was what was wrong here! Not inferior parts..not shoddy workmanship by the company that made this machine..not mower-eating monsters that are hiding in the bushes..."Mom used it!" Well! Hmmmph!

Needless to say, Hubby graciously made a trip to the store and returned with a new mower! A beautiful, shiny machine with all of the bells and whistles that one could desire. It was a dream machine..one that would make cutting grass a pleasure. I let out a low whistle..wow! This is awesome! Then Hubby and Son turned to me and said in unison.."Yeah..you can use the other one now..it is the "old" one." SO! I get the mower Son used to use and he gets the new one! But then..I guess they know me well enough..I will be back down in the briers again soon enough!