Relative Something

I did a lot of mowing yesterday and took the batteries of the riding mower right down to the limit. Like so many gas tanks and their gauges, the second half-tank of fuel seems to run out a lot faster than the first. I run for a surprising amount of time before the indicator on the e-mower changes from 100% to 99. When I hit the 40s, I might miss glancing to find a number in the 30s. Suddenly it’s 20-something and then I can almost watch it tick down one percentage after another.

I was hoping to finish one particular section before pausing to charge the batteries so I started accelerating my maneuvers to get to the end. By skipping two finishing passes that I could do later, I cut the essential area and limped the tractor back to the garage on battery fumes.

By switching to the push mower and its fully charged batteries, I mowed the labyrinth while the riding mower’s batteries charged. Just over an hour later, I was back on the riding mower and cutting down by the road. As the shadows were getting longer, I finished along the driveway and was ready to call it done. I don’t know how I suddenly remembered those two passes I’d skipped earlier but I realized it just in time to wheel over to the back of the barn and reach the completion of a big day of mowing.

While at the barn, I hopped off to bring in empty feed buckets and tend to some manure clean-up. I spotted something as I pushed the wheelbarrow out the back door.

There was a sprout of uncut grass a little bigger than my footprint that I had missed. It brought a laugh because this was in a spot I had been mowing well before I had hastened my progress due to low batteries.

Describing to Cyndie what I found humorous about the oddity, I told her, “It looked like the way Cyndie mows!”

For those unfamiliar with our myriad differences of thought and behavior, I am very methodical about my mowing routine, whereas Cyndie is inclined to employ a much more creative way of getting the job done.

Vive la différence.

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