Lawn Mowin'

When my mom was a teenager, she said she used to mow the lawn in her bra and shorts. Thinking no one would know the difference. I always imagined her in those great 1950's cone-type bras, cat eye glasses and Ked-like tennis shoes, mowing away. And all the neighbors giggling as they drove by. I'm pretty sure they could tell the difference. It's a funny picture I see painted of my mother, though. Another reason I love her. She's been pushing limits and buttons for a long time now.

I mowed the lawn quite often as a teenager as well. With all of my clothes on, I might ad. My dad had a particular design he liked mowed. Like a spiral, only with the rectangular twist the shape of the lawn was laid out in. Start at the edges and mow to the center. He mowed lawns as a young boy, for a living. This was many years ago, a lot more work than now, and I know he made next to nothing as a little nine year old. (I know this, of course, because he started telling me about it when I started mowing - and complaining about doing the job).

Our lot was HUGE in those mossy green acres of Washington. The grass was vibrantly bright and more often than not, I'd find at least one small frog along my mowing travels. We didn't edge, or trim the yard. This is Washington for heavens sake! If your jungle is mowed, your house looks pristine. I'd never even seen an edger until I was 23 or 24. (seen used by a native Utahan, I might ad) But our yard looked lovely pushed directly against our seven acres of 200 foot trees. A blanket of lush green spread to the feet of sky touching evergreens.

Yesterday, I taught my Big One how to mow the lawn. He's not quite nine, but did a fantastic job. I wanted to teach him, because I am most particular about the mowing. I like two laps around the edge, then diagonal stripes right down the center. Directions of the stripes need to be changed each week, so you get a bit of an argyle pattern as it grows.

I watched him push that little self propelled beast around the yard. His face so proud. As he stepped over his big yellow tractor, now to small for him to ride, that his younger siblings enjoy, I saw the future so near it made me sad. He loved that yellow tractor. I bought it at a yard sale when he was Chubbles age. It has the scoop and dump features, and has been well loved.

Now he was operating a small noisy engine of his own. He doesn't have to make the sounds for himself. He turned each corner like a pro, maneuvered around the trees perfectly. If only teaching him to drive will be this easy.

I know it's silly. But it made me think how terribly soon my kids will be grown. These days seem to last forever. And then they're gone. We moved to Houston ten years ago. It seems like only a few. In that blink of an eye, Samuel will be on his way out the door and the others quickly behind.

He hugged and kissed me so many times while mowing that lawn yesterday. With each bag emptying or question he had. He's come to me, wrap his arms around me, and say, "I love you mom. I can't believe I'm mowing the lawn. And I'm doin' a pretty good job, if I do say so myself."

Then I'd rub his sweaty fuzzy head, kiss him back and praise his wonderful work.

I hope I get to see him teach his kids to mow the lawn. I'll tell them of their great grandparents, and their grandparents, and of the day I taught their dad. And how these small little lessons help us learn to work, gain independence, and take pride in ourselves and our home.

Just like I told their dad.

*picture from www.fairwaylawnskc.com/diy-mowing.html