Last week, our old mower died. FYI, it was a sad event. John had that mower for 25+ years; longer than he's had me. I know the feeling. (my tiller)
The other day, a brand new mower was delivered to the house. The guy unloaded the shiny red beast and drove it into the garage. I looked at it and went indoors. I was still mourning the loss of our mower.
John came home and started the mower up. He tried to get it out of the garage, but couldn't. Look at the steering arms. We're used to steering wheels!
This weekend, he succeeded in getting it out of the garage. He headed for wide open space so he could practice driving the beast.
FYI-2, John, like a lot of men, does not read directions.
He seemed to be doing fine. Getting a little cocky even. I was braiding garlic on the patio. Mower dude decides he wants to mow the small section between two of my garden spots. (we usually push mow this section) Next thing I know, he's backing up into my cucumber trellis! Luckily get got it together enough to stop the beast from completely mowing over my cukes, trellis and all.
He looked like the little boy that just did something bad and was about to get yelled at. He got out lucky. I was able to put the trellis back up, since these are portable iron ones. No harm was done.
Maybe next week, I'll hop on the beast and give it a go. Wonder if I 'll hit anything in the process?
Until next time.....
