Friday, February 10, 2006

Mowing the Grass

Don’t tell my dad this, but I used to love mowing the yard when I was a kid. Actually it wasn't the mowing itself I liked, but it was the time I had to myself while I was doing it. Even with the motor blaring in my ear I had time to daydream and think without being interrupted. It was my own little world while I pushed the mower around the yard. I mowed about six yards a week in the summer and apart from the money I made I had lots of time to myself. In high school we moved out to the country and got a riding mower. It required a bit more concentration (once I drove it into a tree), and had the added bonus of sitting down while I thought. The yard was big enough that I had about two and half-hours.
Now that I am grown, living by myself, and 450 miles away from my parents yard I have lots of time to myself. Which is OK because if don’t have an yard to mow, but sometimes when I really need to think I drive over to a friends house, fire up his old Snapper and cut his grass. But just don't tell my dad, ok?

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