We had dinner with friends last night, and afterwards as we sat around chatting, several accounts were given of lawn mower incidents with some of the wives. I bit my tongue as long as I could, because if I told my story, this would be the first time in 45 years that Joe knew about it. But I just had to share it. Surprisingly, he laughed with the rest of them. When we first moved here in the late 60s, I was a golf widow. Joe hit the golf course every single day when he got off work. And our grass often grew out of control. Fortunately, this was a dirt road and not a lot of traffic. Smokerise was still in pasture land, the bridge at the bottom of the hill was a wooden bridge, and the only people who passed here were going to the Morgans or the Crenshaws. But it bothered me when it got too high. In those days, I didnt know anything about riding lawn mowers. But one day riding home from work, I decided that I had to take matters into my own hands. I took Ritch by my moms (this was before Angie was born) and went home with determination to tackle the problem. We didnt have a storage house in those days, and Joe parked the lawn mower in the back corner of the carport, facing the wall toward the road. Back then, lawn mowers werent as easy to turn on as they are now. But I wouldnt give up until I figured it out. Unfortunately, I dont know if Joe had left it in reverse or if Reverse happened to be the first gear I reached. And I have no idea where the brakes were on that rascal - didnt know then either. So when I finally got it cranked, I went flying across the carport - backwards. On the opposite wall, just behind where the lawnmower was parked, were the five steps that lead into our house. So with outstretched legs trying to stop the dang mower, I slowly backed up the steps one by one by one, shaving off a little of the bricks as I went. At the time, there was no storm door. So when the monster and I got to the door, we pushed open the wood door and sat dangling with the back wheels inside our home and the front wheels in the air. I finally figured out how to cut the mower off - but not how to get it back down the steps. I ever so carefully climbed off the back of the mower into our house and went out the back door around to the carport - and the waiting monster on wheels. That rascal was heavy!!! But I carefully maneuvered it back down the steps - one step at a time. Because it was still in reverse, I couldnt push it back in the corner. So I pushed it backwards in a big circle in the carport til I got it repositioned in its original spot. I was covered in dirt and oil and worn to a frazzle. But I made it back in the house and cleaned up before Joe got home, none the wiser. Until last night, he never knew of my adventure. Imagine my amusement when, the next time he cut the grass, he said, I dont know what in the world happened to the blades on the lawn mower. Theyre almost new but they were dull as could be. I just smiled and thought to myself, That happens when they shave off brick steps.
Posted on: Fri, 19 Dec 2014 15:01:57 +0000
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