Summer Time... and the livin's easy

Good Blog Monkeys know that Penny is an old fashioned girl. I believe that there are certain things that men were meant to do, and certain things that women were meant to do... and, if life is fair, the two should never meet.

For instance, lawn mowing.

I own a lawn mower. However, Scooter has so entrenched it in the garage (Under two tons of trash which Scooter can not throw out and Penny can not throw out either -- he because he is insane, she because she is small and weak and literally can not throw the shit out.) Hence the ordeal of removing the mower from the garage is nearly impossible. I could do it it, though. I do not because once I get the thing out I can not start it.

I have learned this bit of wisdom on far too many occasions. I have scraped my knuckles, battered my shoulder and broken toes kicking it while cursing in great streams of scurrilous expletives. I prime. I check the spark plug. I twist the throttle in complicated ways. All of it to no avail. So, wisely, I no longer even try.

My lawn is a trooper though. It does not notice the lack of mowing and quit growing. Nope. It notices the lack of mowing and screams COWABUNGA! I have witnessed, with my own eyes, my lawn growing. If you were to lie down on it and take a nap? You would wake encased in over enthusiastic St. Augustine sod. I once saw it swallow a rake.

Well, you might wonder, what does Penny do? Clearly she can not let the lawn run amok, eating small pets and various gardening implements. (I swear, the only reason Steve King has not written about my lawn is because he can not imagine an evil so... Verdant) The lawn must be dealt with.

So I cut it with my string trimmer.

This is no small task. It generally takes three days. Three days of trimming, raking, sweeping, etc. But what the hell else have I got to do?

Yesterday was day one. Today is day two. If I am lucky I'll have it all finished by Wednesday and then can rest on Thursday. By Friday it will be menacing my children and their friends so I'll start over. My feet are a loverly shade of green. I have wads of grass under my eye lids. The insects take refuge in my hair since that seems safe from the trimmer.

Alas, my friends, while others are basking in summer fun, Penny will be basking is clouds of green trimmer exhaust. Fortunately green is a good color on me.