The Mouth Vs. The Mower!

Here in the Little Cabin In The North Woods we try really hard not to mix technology with blonde. Or at the very least we try to keep the power tools away from them.

There is an occasion, however, when we all need to hold our collective breaths, run for cover and pray to the gods for safety. This occasion happens roughly every other sunday during the summer, as evidenced by the following:

The Mouth grabs her sunglasses, cd player and a drink and sunscreen, and heads to the garage for that which we shall call the Bi-Weekly Mowing Of The Lawn.

Before you go and call CPS on me, its not a reel mower with no motor. It's not even a push mower but a riding mower and she expends about the same amount of energy mowing as she would laying out on the beach. It's not a 106 acre field, but about 1 acre of lawn.

But this day would be different.

First she would have to do the Dance Of The Dead Battery requiring a battery charger and, of course, accompanied by an appropriate amount of whining. (my girls all know how to do these most basic of things so she wasn't totally lost, she was just trying to get someone else to bail her out). After that little squirmish was won she commenced to do the riding thing while I pushed the hand mower around the edges. When I noticed her sitting there not doing anything I immediately assumed we needed major repairs such as a gas tank refill, but no. All she said is it's not cutting. Well I'll give her points for that, at least she didn't mow along happily, oblivious to the world around her, mowing the 57 acres (she'd like you to believe) and not actually accomplishing anything.

After determining that the PTO was not engaging, therefore the blades were not spinning, and after a phone call to my brother (hubby was unavailable) we were off again, but only for a bit when it quit again.

Ok, at this point we have exceeded my limited knowledge of how that stuff works so we'll go to plan b. She can do the edges with the weed whip. More whining ensues sprinkled with what can only be called blonde logic such as "Are you sure you want me to touch the weed whip thing. I might break that too? Besides that won't start either." Well, we did get that started and working but then the pizza drove in.

Pizza is standard fare after a morning of whining/mowing. Not much got done after that! But she did learn to check "belty thingies".