Holey Mowing

I mowed yesterday.  Mowing is not a top priority in my life, to the despair of my kind neighbors.  The only real reason I mow at all is because of the ticks & fleas excessive grass and weeds promote in a yard not mowed.  I frankly like the natural look sans snakes.  I grew up in Minnesota and South Dakota.  We didn't mow there till June and then, about every two weeks.  I am not genetically set up to mow as frequently as needed here in southeast MO plus I think it is a husband's job. Yep, even though I consider myself a feminist if one must label oneself, mowing should not be my job.  Remaining in denial of the fact that there is no husband doesn't help.  Thus, I already have two irrational dis-inclinations against me.  Add to those the fact that I am a holey mower. 

Being a holey mower has nothing to do with faith and everything to do with Seymour and the late Thomas.  Seymour is my long haired tweenie Dachshund who BELIEVES (well, now, there is faith) in his heritage as a badger dog - he goes to ground every chance he gets.  A friend has on video Seymour snapping at a fellow dog playmate who came too close to his digging spot.  He prefers to dig along the fence.  He doesn't dig to get out (that was Cindy Lou Who, a Beagle now in a wonderful home) but to follow his instinct.  Dachshunds were bred and developed to hunt badgers in their lairs.  They are very brave dogs with drive and tenacity.  I have had to go out and get Seymour from a hole in the rain for his meal.  I worry about him drowning in a hole he is making. 

Thomas, on the other hand, was a Treeing Walker Coonhound.  He should have been baying up the trees but he loved to dig and he dug BIG.  Due to my lack of diligence in mowing, my neighbors would watch Thomas dig, he would disappear, then show up again to dig - he disappeared when he was tired and laid down in the tall grass where he was no longer visible.  After regaining his mojo, he would be up and at it again.  Thomas has been gone for a few years now but the yards and field still contain his legacy of holes which my mower regularly finds. 

I mowed most of my front yard and half the field yesterday.  In order to mow the holes I could not see, I chose not to ride the riding mower but to drive it.  Most of us go around tilted forward.  We rarely stand or sit truly straight.  It is a reason dancers and dressage riders use mirrors in their work out rooms/arenas.  They want to check their position so as to be most effective in developing correct posture, musculature and form for their arts.  I sat back on the mower as if I were in an autocross or riding jumps - kept my hands loose on the wheel, used my weight several times to prevent hanging up in a hole (thank you, God) and kept moving forward.  I always have to start on the highest setting for my deck.  First pass is not pretty; second pass makes it a bit better.  I only got stuck once.  One wheel spun, the other did not; simple physics - I turned the front wheels to the good side, used my legs and body mechanics to lift and move the back of the mower out and over.  Thank you, God, throughout the entire process.

Grace note: Once, when I was stopped to clean out my catcher, the mower took a bit to start.  As I was looking down, I saw a very large shadow pass.  I looked up to see a blue heron flying over - full wing span, long legs out behind.  A reminder how God will bless all of our endeavors whether or not they are our favorite things.  

The part of the field I chose to mow was the one from which the Notre Dame students removed the huge dead weeds which had grown up so large last year they were not mow-able.  They are now GONE, their attempt to grow this year mowed down with purpose, drive and only the loss of a very few dog toys.  Great! - and now it is supposed to rain again for multiple days.  We are started.  A neighbor came over after she was done in her yard and mowed the outside of my fence.  Thank you!  All the dogs have both tall and short grass/weeds in which to romp, do their business and roll.  Seymour's fence holes?  They are still covered by tall grasses.  I will have to cut those down by hand; it may keep him from the fence for a bit.  Naw.