“A man should cut his own lawn”
Most quarantining in Indiana will end soon, but here’s something that may provide solace for those who remain at home:
Champions League classics on YouTube, from B/R Football.
Today’s video is of the final of 2009 between Manchester United and Barcelona.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
An adorable groundhog now resides in a tunnel under our front porch. Everyone advises that we remove it so it doesn’t dig holes in our foundation.
How does one humanely remove a groundhog?
As Karin & I consider this, we enjoy watching the beast frolic out on the lawn. It eats mouthfuls of freshly cut grass. It flees into its tunnel whenever a car drives by.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The front lawn was cut by our pastor and church board chairman. Like Hank Hill and his Rainey Street friends, they’d do it for fun if I’d let them.
Both of these generous men offered to give me their spare mowers. I ended up accepting the church board chairman’s push mower. Sadly, his riding mower didn’t fit through the gate to our back yard, and so yesterday I had to use the push mower to cut most of that lawn.
But not all of it. This was the lawn’s first trimming of the season, and the grass was very tall. I was defeated by several especially thick clumps of well-watered stalks at the bottom of the slope. The mower would shut off if I cut more than a few square inches at a time. (I wonder if, on those obstinate sections, a reel mower would do better. Or a scythe.)
I’m sore all over, and my hands are raw, but I’m determined to head back out to finish the job. After a sustained period of rain, it seems as if every head of household on our street is out mowing.
Champions League classics on YouTube, from B/R Football.
Today’s video is of the final of 2009 between Manchester United and Barcelona.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
An adorable groundhog now resides in a tunnel under our front porch. Everyone advises that we remove it so it doesn’t dig holes in our foundation.
How does one humanely remove a groundhog?
As Karin & I consider this, we enjoy watching the beast frolic out on the lawn. It eats mouthfuls of freshly cut grass. It flees into its tunnel whenever a car drives by.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
The front lawn was cut by our pastor and church board chairman. Like Hank Hill and his Rainey Street friends, they’d do it for fun if I’d let them.
Both of these generous men offered to give me their spare mowers. I ended up accepting the church board chairman’s push mower. Sadly, his riding mower didn’t fit through the gate to our back yard, and so yesterday I had to use the push mower to cut most of that lawn.
But not all of it. This was the lawn’s first trimming of the season, and the grass was very tall. I was defeated by several especially thick clumps of well-watered stalks at the bottom of the slope. The mower would shut off if I cut more than a few square inches at a time. (I wonder if, on those obstinate sections, a reel mower would do better. Or a scythe.)
I’m sore all over, and my hands are raw, but I’m determined to head back out to finish the job. After a sustained period of rain, it seems as if every head of household on our street is out mowing.