Grass shoots the size of small trees were a sign that, perhaps, it was time to cut the grass. Or, as the French say, "Mow d'Lawn". I covet a motorless mower, but lack the necessary ducats to make this capital investment today, so I trekked to the side yard and and rolled out the rusty, cantankerous lawn muncher that my babymamma plucked from the garbage bin to give me a year or so ago; grabbed the "go cord", and pulled. And pulled. And pulled. A decent work-out, but utterly unavailing to make the motor actually, you know, engage.
What to do? Couldn't really wait another week to cut. The ents would've thrown giant boulders and crushed the tower by then. Hmm. I accepted an offer from a Bro in the Boro to borrow a Toro (actually it wasn't a Bro, but I liked the alliteration).
I've included a picture of said Toro, but have artfully hidden the mower's identity. Actually, it was really hot, and I was sweating plenty, which, I suppose, is why the picture is blurred. I sorta liked the effect anyway.
6 comments:
lawnmower starting trick ... (my dad was too cheap to buy a decent mower, ever) ... unscrew the spark plug, dip it in gasoline, then screw it back in ... blammo! Always works!
Nice pic, btw! Way arty.
I'll try it next week, Chase, and thanks.
Or you could take the mower to the nearest hardware store and get a tuneup and the blade sharpened ($30 at the most).
I guess Ace could do it, but I really doubt this small pile of metal is worth it, John. Least my t.v.'s working again. Not sure what the trouble was.
Or, you could move to Denver, then you wouldn't have to worry about a car, a lawn mower, or a TV, just sit on Chase's balcony and watch life happen!
Okay, I'm on my way.
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