Cuttin' the Lawn

Can I get a drum-roll please? This Saturday, for the very first time, I cut my back yard. OK, this may not be thrilling to you, but for me it was an introduction to the finesse and strategy it takes to mow a lawn. My husband had already cut the front yard and had just begun the back when inspiration pulled me from my school reading and I bounded over in freshly manicured toes and flip-flops and took the reins from his astonished hands. I was flustered at first because I couldn’t seem to push the mower, but then I figured out it was due to the thick zoysia grass that makes up part of our yard. It’s so thick, that it feels like you’re trying to push through a shag carpet. But after struggling through that section, I sailed along haphazardly, making triangles, edging the garden; I even took to running across the yard, pushing the noisy sputtering contraption ahead of me.
I found myself enjoying the work my legs and arms were doing, imagining that with all the pushing and heaving, they were sculpting themselves into perfect Uma Thurman replicas. I fell into a meditative zone, wondering how that checker-board pattern appears on all of the golf courses, which led me to speculate about the patterns a lawn mower could make in general, and perhaps, if one was really handy, a paisley design could be achieved with strategic raising and lowering of the blades.
I began to feel a little cocky, hoping my female neighbor friends would see me hard at work and be impressed with my yard cutting skills, but it turned out that only my daughter witnessed the event. I think her taking a picture makes the occasion, at least in her mind, some what awe-inspiring.