My lawn and I have been engaged in a battle. Lawn nearly won. It all started innocently enough. Lawn was behaving himself, sitting quietly in front of my house as a good lawn should, content with being green. But dark undercurrents of rebellion were stirring within Lawn. The first sign of trouble was the Dandelions. Like an advance party of Special Forces they surreptitiously began moving into position around Lawn, slowly lifting their heads from cover and looking around. I should have acted then… but my Sister had given me an Xbox and I was… busy.
Then things escalated. Lawn began to expand, upwards, fast. A slightly queasy feeling began to grip my stomach. I’d stand in my living room and careful pull one corner of the curtains aside, furtively glancing around at Lawn before quickly retreating back the relative safety of “Need for Speed Underground 2”.
Time for action! The problem is that I don’t own a lawnmower and I don’t fancy my chances with a pair of kitchen scissors. So I call the mercenaries… Lawn decapitators for hire. These guys have the gear to decimate Lawn and to carry away the evidence in a canvas bag. It turns out they aren’t cheap either! Especially as Lawn has now established a beachhead and is I suspect planning an invasion. I decide I can’t afford the mercenaries. An air of disquiet hangs over the neighbourhood. The neatly groomed properties either side of me seem to scream at me every time I drive in. I’d close my eyes except then I’d probably drive over my letterbox.
Plan B. This sees me borrowing a mower from my brother-in-law. I went to the hardware shop and bought a brand new petrol can, stopped at the service station to get some fuel, and headed home. Lawn looked at me defiantly as I walked past. I filled up the mower and rolled it into position, settled my earmuffs securely into position, firmly grasped the mower’s pull cord and… well pulled. Nothing. So I reset and grasped the cord again, took a deep breath and pulled again. The first 200mm of pull went according to plan. But then with a snap the cord broke. My arms kept up their momentum and my fist, still clenched tightly around the handle, smashed into my face. Lawn got a reprieve for another day.
Now to the espionage. While all this was happening it seems that one of my neighbours was giving reports back to my landlord (who lives a few hundred kilometres away). First I know of it is when I receive an email that says, “street report u r making hay on front lawn? lol, plse keep cut, ta”. Aaaah… I’m trying! Now I don’t know about you but there is something creepy about finding out that your landlord has someone watching the place to make sure you’re doing everything right. Not knowing who it is that is watching we are now glaring over the fence at all our neighbours… chances are we’ll eventually glare at the right person. Everyone else will simply think we’ve lost our minds and will warn their kids to stay away from us.
Back to my war with Lawn. The disgraced mower got sent to the repair shop and I was promised that I would get it back in three days. That’s three days where Lawn sat gloating at my failure. Both my neighbours cut their lawns again, just to rub salt in the wound. After three days I rang the repair shop… not ready. The next day… still not ready. Finally after six days I get the mower back. Look out Lawn, your time has come!
So I put on my boots, fix my earmuffs securely to my ears, check the petrol level and roll the mower into position. Then carefully pulling the choke to fully on I grasp the new pull-cord pausing long enough for a deep breath… and pull. It starts! For all of five seconds before spluttering in a death rattle to silence. I think naughty words loudly in my head. After much poking and prodding (and maybe just a bit of kicking) I realise that the fuel valve has been turned off during the repair. A simple thing to fix… and now I’m back in business.
1 comment:
haha, awesome yarn
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