A Liberated Woman

I mowed this weekend. Ben was home for my race and, on Sunday afternoon before he headed out, I was determined to become a liberated woman and learn to mow my own yard.

We got the mower back from the shop, part was 10 bucks (which was cheap so no harm done) but the shop failed to mention the $25 dollar minimum fee, so my first attempt at lawn mowing on my own cost us $38 bucks plus tax. Needless to say, Ben was not pleased. Oh, and that's $38 on top of paying my lawn boy each week. Oops.

But you will be happy to know that I gassed up the mower, started it, and operated it all under the practiced eye of my husband, beer in one hand and camera in the other. I know the neighbors loved that, but you should always document life's (or your wife's) milestones.

There were only a few girlish shrieks along the way, all of which I'm sure the neighbors heard. They were justified though, I got beaned in the head with mulch, started to slide down the hill with the mower, and got a little tangled up in a tree. All clearly reasonable reactions.

I will say that I was sweating quite a bit, probably more than the half marathon I ran the day before. I also managed to maintain a worried expression on my face the entire time I was mowing. I guess that's me concentrating. Kinda scary looking.

I finished the yard and, like all good husbands, I headed into the house for an ice cold beer. I never believed Ben or my dad until now, a beer does taste so much better after cutting the grass. Ahhh....

Mom and Dad are here next weekend so I'm going to take full advantage of having another coach at the house while I attempt this fretful feat on my own again.