Posts Tagged ‘mowing’
Didn’t Do
Soon after I married Cyndie and settled into a routine of occasional dinners with her family, I noticed a pattern in their table conversations. When her father asked, “What have you done for your country today?” it was time to recite a list of worthy accomplishments you’d achieved that day. Cyndie tells me he was asking that since they were little kids.
The question was loaded with the implication that you had better have done something worthwhile or face the shame and embarrassment of receiving a disapproving scowl. I’m confident that Fred was well aware of my frequent attempts to fluff my reports by stretching my descriptions or playing devil’s advocate and admitting I did nothing.
I’m a fan of the thought that happiness is doing nothing all day and, at the end of the day, resting.
Some days, I’d like to get credit for the things I didn’t do.
- I didn’t drive my car and produce auto exhaust, and I didn’t contribute to traffic or wear and tear on our roads.
- I didn’t make any non-essential purchases.
- I didn’t take an airplane flight.
- I didn’t get into any arguments.
- I didn’t yell at any kids.
- I didn’t harm any animals.
- I didn’t send any campaign spam messages to clutter people’s inboxes.
Yesterday, I didn’t nap and barely had a chance to do nothing.
Cyndie volunteered to clear excess leaves from the grass around the barn and hay shed where I hadn’t mowed the last time I cut all the rest of the property. It looks a lot better now; cropped shorter than usual to be ready for winter.
With the mowing done, I decided to take a chance and park the mower behind the ATV in the garage, in case I’m done mowing for the season. Before I did that, though, I figured I should bring the plow blade forward to where it could be reached in case it ever snows more than a few inches at a time this winter.
We also had several packs of extra shingles that I wanted to stow away in the back of the shop garage. That triggered a full-on garage cleaning with Cyndie’s help that neither of us had planned on doing. Luckily, we were both in similar mindsets about things we uncovered that weren’t deserving of taking up space anymore.
Now the recycle bin is full, the garbage bin is full, and there is a bunch of stuff at the end of the driveway beneath a “FREE” sign.
As light was fading on the day, I hustled to finish a woodworking project for Cyndie that she needed to have before she leaves this morning for an overnight with friends. She needed a gavel for a costume party, so I offered to make her one.
It looks like it’s from “The Flintstones,” but her costume is a famous judge who was known by three initials. It’s a rustic gavel. The handle is a section from a grapevine in our woods, and the head is a piece of insect-carved branch from an ash tree.
One thing I’m hoping she doesn’t do is pound the gavel with any force because the glue hasn’t had sufficient time to cure all the way.
With Cyndie gone today, there’s a possibility that Asher and I could turn this into a do-nothing day without much effort. [see what I did there…?]
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Mulching Leaves
As we near the latter half of the season of falling leaves, with the grass continuing to grow like summer, I find the sight of our freshly mowed lawn and leaves doubly rewarding. Mulching the leaves with the mower is a two-step process, usually, but it’s so, so worth it. With the mower deck rigged for mulching, I will mow some sections twice, crisscrossing the cut at a ninety-degree angle for best results.
I’d like to be able to say it beats raking, but there are places where the leaves get too deep, and I have to get off the mower and do a cursory sweep with the rake to get things to a reasonable level the mower can effectively chew through. It helps to run the blades at the higher speed setting, but I do that sparingly, or it’ll drain the batteries faster than I can finish everything I’m trying to accomplish.
Maybe the reason I find the look so appealing is that I know it won’t look like this for very long. Leaves will continue to fall, and grass will continue to grow. The last month of mowing grass these days comes with a question each time as to whether it will be the last time for the season or not. I always hope it’s the last time, but too often it turns out to be not so.
Thankfully, there are more areas of our property where leaves are the preferred ground cover than there are places I mow.
As we head into our 15th year here, I am a little surprised at myself for not converting more areas from mowed grass to natural ground cover. To my credit, I have stopped mowing plenty of areas that were mowed when we first moved here. Each spring, I try to select an area where I can reduce the dimensions of mowed grass by some reasonable percentage.
It’s a bit of a balancing act, because both Cyndie and I want some mowed grass, but we both equally appreciate the natural areas.
Here’s hoping it won’t be long before I stop writing about mowing for a few months. It remains to be seen whether the subject of plowing and shoveling snow will come up this winter or not, given the super El Niño intensity I keep reading about.
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Within Inches
Had a close call with the zero-turn mower when one of the rear wheels started sliding over the edge of a sharp drop near a culvert, and I couldn’t get it to climb back out. Every time I tried to maneuver it back onto flat ground, it felt like I was getting closer to disaster. This happened in a corner of our property near the road that was about as far away as I could get from the shop where I could get the help of the ATV and winch cable to pull the mower back up over that lip.
One thing I try to practice religiously is to stop before I make a problem worse than it already is. I immediately shut off the mower blades and lifted the deck to its highest setting. Getting out of the seat to look at the drop the wheel was caught on, I didn’t think it looked insurmountable. My next move involved muscling the front wheels into alignment to give the mower a straight shot out of the predicament.
One of the front wheels was up in the air, and it felt rather precarious to try sitting back on the seat with the mower tilted on the brink of no return. As soon as my butt landed, I goosed the drive wheels and rolled up onto solid ground again.
It was a real “Phew!” moment.
I was getting to the end of a long day of not just mowing, but multiple other good accomplishments as well. When I took Asher to retrieve the empty feed buckets after breakfast, he wanted to extend it into an adventure walk in our woods. I took advantage of that time to pull many vines off of tree trunks. The ground in the woods beyond the labyrinth is covered with a web of vines that take advantage of almost every tree they encounter.
There are so many vines; it seems like a fruitless attempt to defeat them all, except I noticed it wasn’t as bad as a year ago, so I think we are making progress. Knowing I would have some time between mowing sessions while batteries charged, I pulled the ATV trailer from the hay shed and filled it with composted manure to be spread on the hay field.
The rain of the previous two days kept me from mowing the yards around the house, so I started there first. The grass had definitely responded to the available ground moisture with added inches. While batteries charged after that effort, I started up the Grizzly and hauled two trailer loads of composted manure.
Then it was back to mowing and my close encounter with the drop-off near the culvert. I finished mowing just in time to help Cyndie with afternoon horse chores and found the horses in their calmest and most satisfied state. I gotta say, that’s one of the best ways to end a day filled with non-stop (sometimes anxiety-producing) activities on our land.
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Extremely Dry
It feels like our spell of extremely dry conditions has caused some plants to end their growing phase a little early in the season. A few of the sumac leaves are losing their green color and turning red already.
The trails in the woods are opening back up as leaves and stems are starting to wither. The trees that drop their leaves early have started to cover the ground with shriveled and twisted brown leaves.
Even though the hay field was hardly lush with growing grass, it was greatly in need of being mowed to knock down Queen Anne’s Lace and a variety of other bothersome weeds and tree sprouts threatening to take over. Cyndie looked up suggestions for improving our field and learned that the most effective thing we can do, if we are intent on avoiding chemical spraying, is to mow it regularly.
I dread mowing the 5-acre hay field with our relatively small brush cutter because it takes so dang long. I spent over 4 hours making pass after pass on it Friday. It was also frustrating to see how many times the tall weeds simply lay flat under the tires as they rolled by, so that the rotating blade passed right over them without cutting.
The horses didn’t seem to care.
From a distance, the field looks pretty nice. It could probably fool a passerby into thinking I used a finishing mower instead of the brush cutter with a really dull blade.
While I was stuck on the tractor seat for hours on end, I watched Cyndie using the string trimmer to cut beneath the fence line. Boy, does she work fast. It made my slog back and forth in tight little lines feel like it was taking even longer.
I failed to notice her getting stung in the ankle multiple times by a wasp. When I got back to the house, she had her foot propped up and was icing it.
Asher added a little of his own excitement as we were headed down to feed the horses later in the afternoon. I noticed him intently focused on a spot under a pine tree, just staring. When I looked back a second time and found him still frozen in the same position, I had a good sense of what was coming next.
Sure enough, he reared up and pounced, driving his snout into the dusty, dry soil with two quick paw-swipes and came up with a mole. What always follows is a protracted pacing around the property for the perfect place to bury his catch. He looked so lost that I commanded him to come bury it behind the barn, where we could keep an eye on him. He deemed that an acceptable option.
A few minutes later, he was back in the barn, regally reclining like the great and successful hunter that he is.
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Happiness Is
Happiness is: getting multiple piles of compost tossed, watered down, and reshaped for further processing and able to be ignored for days.
Happiness is: getting the tall green grass mowed while minimizing driving over the brittle, roasted portions everywhere else.
Happiness is: finding a new use for a teapot that the house sitter accidentally let boil dry, leaving it damaged beyond repair. (!)
Happiness is: seeing our dog meandering near me as I mowed while Cyndie is on dog watch and witnessing him suddenly sprint off in her direction when he heard the beeping tone on his e-collar indicating Cyndie was calling for him. Good dog!
Happiness is: sending an interesting article to Julian via text and receiving an even more interesting article from him in response.
Happiness is: hearing Elysa checking in with Cyndie over the phone and knowing she will be getting herself up to the lake place over the weekend.
Happiness is: group texting where one message reaches everyone successfully, regardless of where they may be.
Happiness is: having an air-conditioned home for relief after laboring for hours in high heat.
Happiness is: the sound of laughter from Cyndie on a phone call with her brothers.
Happiness is: being able to accept an overnight invitation to visit friends out of town.
Happiness is: receiving a positive rsvp to an invitation sent to old friends for them to come for a visit to Wintervale.
Happiness is: hearing a rare cut I don’t recognize from one of my long-time favorite singer-songwriters.
Happiness is: succeeding in manipulating pre-formatted website software into something that aligns with our sensibilities.
Happiness is: something that can be cultivated with intentional effort if a person puts their mind to it.
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Baby Birds
While I was pushing the hand mower in front of the house, I noticed a lot of chirpy bird activity. Eventually, I spotted a momma bird with something in her mouth, coaxing a youngster that had wings to flop, but not to fly. I figured she was trying to draw her away from the danger zone, which was a good thing, so I just kept right on mowing.
Suddenly, to my temporary horror, a pair of those floppy wings emerged from the back of the mower. I had just rolled over another one. Luckily, it must have kept its head down, and the mower height was set high enough to clear the little one. I suspect it was just as surprised as I was. I decided to leave it alone, intending to check on it later.
When I came out after lunch to finish mowing, the little bird was nowhere to be found. I took that as a good sign.
After a little more mowing, I again began to hear more of that urgent chirping. This time I knew to look around for one of those flightless flappers. It showed up a few passes away in the longer grass, snuggled in contentedly, chirping as if to tell the momma it was just fine. Mom showed little in the way of agreement.
As I closed the distance on it with two more passes, the little bird showed no sign of wanting to move. I stopped the mower and walked over to pick it up if I had to. I didn’t have to. When I bent over with my gloved hands cupped to scoop it up, it suddenly found its legs, and with those stubby little wings flopping, it hopped and scooted far enough out of the danger zone that I was able to finish mowing.
At least I didn’t have to worry about Asher showing predatory interest in the flightless babies. He was in the house this whole time. Why would I make him stay indoors on such a beautiful day? He was serving his penalty minutes for misconduct. Conduct unbecoming of a good dog. Beyond-property roaming.
While I was tending to the piles in the compost area, he was on his best behavior. He followed me as I pushed a filled wheelbarrow up to our strawberry patch, where Cyndie asked me to leave a few loads for her to distribute later. He followed me back again and sat up tall, watching the horses as I worked.
When he didn’t show up on my last run to the garden and back, I called for him. I walked around the house and rechecked the barn and looked in all his favorite spots to recline. I begrudgingly made my way to the end of the driveway, pushing the beep tone on his collar. When I reached the road, I found him just cresting the hill, trotting toward me as a pickup truck approached from the other direction.
The truck slowed, Asher looked at it, and it passed without incident. I made him march directly to the front door of the house, no distractions allowed.
A smart person might stick to their guns and live up to the plan of leashing him when distracted with a task. Obviously, my hope springs eternal.
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Pushing It
Three times yesterday, I found myself racing to finish trimming or mowing grass as raindrops began to fall. The last time, it was also thundering overhead, and Asher couldn’t understand why I wasn’t bailing out sooner. I was so close to finishing cleaning up the edges with the string trimmer that I just kept going, even though the storm had reached our doorstep.
When the first rain fell, I took it as a good justification to have lunch and stay indoors to watch the USA men’s soccer team against Australia in the second game of their group stage. Before the game even kicked off, the sky cleared, and it got sunny and beautiful outside.
I didn’t have the heart to make Asher be stuck inside, so I pulled the game up on my laptop and sat out in the yard with him to watch the first half. The home team made their country proud and achieved a clean sheet (did not concede a goal) in the victory.
The sunny weather held throughout the game, which took us right up to the time to feed the horses, so when their portions were served, I hopped on the mower to finish what had been interrupted earlier. Asher patiently waited for me to finish, as my decision to mow was cutting into his usual dinner time.
After I put the mower away, I found Asher had been occupying himself while I was unavailable to supervise by eating the pellets the horses spilled onto their placemats. He knows we don’t approve of that, but I was delaying his meal time, so I didn’t make a fuss over it this time.
We headed in for his real dinner, and I hurried to eat mine in the hope of getting back out to use the trimmer. If I had noticed how close the storm was, I likely wouldn’t have even tried.
It was a back-and-forth weather day that led to my pushing beyond my usual mode of operating. I’m glad that I ultimately succeeded in getting that portion of mowing done, given the long list of groundskeeping chores concurrently needing tending. For as many times as it rained, it is a real bonus to get any of that work done.
For the record, I got the horse waterer cleaned, too, but I forgot to check for strawberries that may need picking.
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Unlikely Plan
It seemed like an unlikely plan, but somehow I pulled it off. After a short errand to River Falls in the morning, I felt overcome by sleep when I got home. A 45-minute period of deep slumber in the recliner followed. I did not wake full of zest and pondered the possibility of illness brewing within.
The hour of lunching had arrived, so I decided to try fueling my body to see if that helped me feel more alive. I asked Cyndie if it seemed dry enough outside to mow after our overnight rainfall watered all the growing things. Her answer was rather noncommittal, but it wasn’t a no.
It had gotten late enough in the day that it was entirely uncharacteristic of me to start a project like mowing the back pasture with the diesel tractor and brush cutter, but that is what I decided to do. I hadn’t used the New Holland 3415 since mid-April, so I checked the oil, added air to the tires, added liquid grease to the brush cutter gearbox, and greased the universal joint. For good measure, I got under the brush cutter and used the grinder to touch up the cutting edge of the blades.
By the time I got in the field, it was almost 4:00, but I didn’t let it bother me. My intuition was telling me I could make worthy progress, and if I couldn’t finish by a reasonable time, it didn’t really matter.
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Well, I did finish. It was about 6:00 when I stopped the tractor in front of the garage to blow it off with compressed air.
When I first rolled into the field, the grass looked to be a little wetter than I expected, but not enough to be a problem. It actually seemed to get drier as I went along. This is the earliest in the summer that we have mowed the back pasture. We always waited in the past because we anticipated it would get cut for hay along with the front field, but the guy doesn’t want to bother with the short distances back there.
Now that we know that, there is no reason to wait. It was an easier job to cut it before it got too tall, and the sooner we nip the weeds, the better. And, gosh darn, it just looks so sharp freshly mowed. I don’t know if the horses are as thrilled with it as I am, but how can they not like it?
Probably the most exciting for me is that I succeeded in pulling off such an unlikely plan for my comfort level in getting things done. I credit the nap. I think it might be my new superpower.
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Mostly Minutiae
What if one day I completely ran out of ideas? Would I write about that? Probably. Good thing I can fall back on simply describing the minutiae of my days. Like how I started the already too-hot day early in the morning yesterday, trying to get manure management back to my high standards after our long weekend away at the lake.
After breakfast, I wanted to use the riding mower to harvest our crop of too-tall grass, but the overtemp error code came on the instant I turned the key. The blade motor had worked a week ago when I mowed the backyard, but now, after sitting dormant while we were away, it tripped before even starting. Doesn’t make much sense, unless it’s reacting to air temperature.
Thankfully, I picked up the replacement motor yesterday, although not until after I pushed the hand mower for a few hours to completely exhaust myself first. The afternoon became a precision-planned exercise of errands I stacked together for maximum efficiency. A stop at our eyeglass place to have them snug up the fit on my new prescription safety glasses. The trip up to North St. Paul to pick up the motor from a repair shop certified to work on Greenworks mowers. A run to my bike shop to get a front light for my bike. A stop at a taphouse in Woodbury for a kick-off meeting for planning my class’s 50th reunion next summer. And finally, a stop to pay over $4/Gallon for gas on the way home.
The timing worked perfectly. Had time to spare, actually.
I’m hoping today will end up just as smooth. We have HVAC installers coming to add ductwork and a dehumidifier in our furnace room. I want to make the motor swap first thing in the morning, in case I can get some additional mowing done before our new Swedish friends stop by to see our place.
I truly hope the dehumidifier installation can be completed in one day. Cyndie has company coming tomorrow, too. I need to get the labyrinth mowed before then. I wish I were better acclimated to 80° F days already. Working outside in the hot sun felt brutal yesterday. Last night, when I checked the 10-day forecast, there wasn’t a day when the high was less than 80.
That gives me an idea. We should just stay at the lake all summer long.
What a wonderful thought. Since that is just a fantasy, I don’t have to bother figuring out how the grass would get mowed, and the animals cared for at home. I can just focus on how that massive air-conditioning body of water beats the heat.
I think I’ll dream about that today while sweating on the riding mower or trudging behind the push mower.
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Rewarding Things
As I was making progress with the string trimmer along the fence line yesterday morning, I had the thought that it’s one of the most rewarding things to see the fence freshly trimmed.
On my walk back toward the shop, I found Mia and Mix lying down while napping in the tall grass of the hay field. Light was doing the same thing inside the large paddock fence. I thought, one of the most rewarding things is, seeing the horses feeling so safe and content and lying down together.
Before I started packing for the lake, the backyard needed mowing. The dandelions were getting as tall as small trees. Not wanting to leave the mower deck all weekend without being cleaned, I parked the mower on two planks so I could scrape the accumulated grass clippings off the bottom of the deck the moment I finished. It led to the thought that it’s one of the most rewarding things to so easily scrape the deck clean while the gunk is fresh and damp.
We then packed the car, left Asher and the horses in the care of our friend, John, and headed to Hudson for the “Taste of the Valley.”
It was a beautiful night for a picnic. We enjoyed repeated rewards of flavors and textures. It was almost impossible to keep track of how much we’d eaten. Cyndie and I shared a lot of bites with each other.
The most rewarding thing came at the end of the day, as we arrived at the lake just after sunset and successfully avoided colliding with any wildlife when driving during the hours of low visibility. Still, we spotted one black bear in a distant field and one deer grazing precariously close to the road.
We stayed up late to watch Stephen Colbert’s last Late Show. Poor CBS. The broadcast company has become a shameful shadow of its former self. It’s been rewarding seeing how many people of good character have voiced their support of Stephen Colbert, and that his popularity has only grown since it was announced that CBS had canceled his show.
It was a good end to a very rewarding day.
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