The Nature of the Beast
My yard, especially the front sidewalk area, has become an overgrown jungle with grass/weeds growing willy-nilly all over the place. You can’t even hear cars traveling down my road because the growth has extended over the curb and into the street creating a nice lush green carpet between me and my across the street neighbor. Keeping this stuff under control in Florida requires tools that I do not currently possess, though I am saving for them and hoping that as the sunny and hot summer weather settles in perhaps it will all be burned to a crisp.
So in a heroic attempt to attack this mess, I borrowed a gas powered weed-eater and an edger. I’ve never really had a good relationship with small gas-powered engines. For me, operating these is a lot like attempting a dance competition with someone you’ve just met moments before. You just can’t help but step on toes, bump into each other and swing while the other sways.
With these small engines it’s all about pushing this button 3 times…or maybe 5 times…”it just depends” and moving a nearly hidden lever this way but then backing it off that way if the engine doesn’t immediately catch and then, if the autumn solstice hasn’t quite been fully realized or if Jupiter and it’s moons are out of sync, well, chances are you may never get the blasted thing started!
So I called the individual from whom I borrowed these handy dandy pieces of…lawn equipment and was told, very calmly and with that tone that people who have no problem operating this stuff often use to those of us who are small engine challenged, “you just need to understand the nature of the beast.”
Well I think I do understand the beast!
I understand that whoever invented this stuff, hopefully, is roasting in hell at this very moment. I understand that, were it not for peer pressure, most of us would not care a lick if our sidewalks were not edged just so. I understand that Sundays can be spent in a much more soul and spirit relaxing manner that wrestling on the ground with buttons, levers and the smell of gasoline all over one’s self.
I understand that I’m going electric all the way.
That’s what I understand.
So in a heroic attempt to attack this mess, I borrowed a gas powered weed-eater and an edger. I’ve never really had a good relationship with small gas-powered engines. For me, operating these is a lot like attempting a dance competition with someone you’ve just met moments before. You just can’t help but step on toes, bump into each other and swing while the other sways.
With these small engines it’s all about pushing this button 3 times…or maybe 5 times…”it just depends” and moving a nearly hidden lever this way but then backing it off that way if the engine doesn’t immediately catch and then, if the autumn solstice hasn’t quite been fully realized or if Jupiter and it’s moons are out of sync, well, chances are you may never get the blasted thing started!
So I called the individual from whom I borrowed these handy dandy pieces of…lawn equipment and was told, very calmly and with that tone that people who have no problem operating this stuff often use to those of us who are small engine challenged, “you just need to understand the nature of the beast.”
Well I think I do understand the beast!
I understand that whoever invented this stuff, hopefully, is roasting in hell at this very moment. I understand that, were it not for peer pressure, most of us would not care a lick if our sidewalks were not edged just so. I understand that Sundays can be spent in a much more soul and spirit relaxing manner that wrestling on the ground with buttons, levers and the smell of gasoline all over one’s self.
I understand that I’m going electric all the way.
That’s what I understand.
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