In the tall grass

VIEWPOINT

By RALPH HARDIN

Evening Times Editor

Yep, as I looked out the double doors that lead to my backyard this morning, it was undeniable.

It’s mowing season again… sigh.

I knew it was coming. My wife spent a few hours this weekend raking and blowing all the leaves to the curb for the big suckymachine to come by and vacuum them all up and there it was, just taunting me… the tall grass.

Now, I’m not a lawn junkie or anything (hello, Mom!) but I do want the yard to look presentable. Plus I’ve found a direct correlation between the height of my grass and the level of mosquitoes and fleas and such I have to deal with, so I’m going to keep it trimmed.

And the thing is, I actually kind of enjoy mowing the yard, as I’ll slip on my earphones, listen to my music and burn a few

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calories pushing the mower around the yard (my yard is technically big enough for a riding mower, but I am way to cheap to actually buy one).

It’s all the other stuff that goes with the job that I hate.

I loathe weedeaters. Some people can work the little string you have to wrestle with to eat those weeds. I am not one of those people. Then there’s the edging and the spraying the sidewalk and driveway and the inevitable running out of gas at just the wrong moment. Plus, I know my dog is going to roll around in the newly-mown grass until he’s green… and he does not need anything else added to him to make him any more weir looking.

But still, spring is here, so I’m girding up for seven months of cutting the grass. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to figure out which of my old sneakers I’m going to sacrifice to the grass gods this year…