Nothing smells better than freshly cut grass

As I sit here at soccer practice looking at this large expanse of freshly mown grass, I am thinking about smells...among other things. I love the smell and the look of freshly mown grass. Growing up, my parents were very particular about several things and their lawn was no exception. They felt, and I agree to a point, that one's lawn reflected the pride one took in their home. Even after my grandmother was unable to do any yard work due to her health and age, her yard was her pride and joy. Having beautiful flowers and perfectly trimmed grass made her happy. When the yard became an inch too long, it drove her crazy. I am much the same way, although with the addition of children, I have had to live with it long sometimes. Drives me crazy, but I do it. Today, I mowed after a long period of...um...not mowing. I know. I'm a real wordsmith. This is what it looked like before mowing:



Weedy and sad. So, I went to our newly built shed and pulled out my faithful and trusty companion. He is old and probably on his last spring/summer/fall stint:



Herman Honda and I have been through a lot. I was afraid that today he was truly dead. No longer with the power of self-propulsion, he has been making a whir-whir-whir-whir sound, slowly hypnotizing me into a landscaping stupor. But this morning, not even a sputter. Whispering a few @$/&?!'s to myself, I thought of what to do. I added gas. I turned some knobs back and forth, all to no avail. So, I went to my go to miracle aerosol product, the starter fluid. My gracious is that a lifesaver. So, he roared to life and started making beautiful diagonals in the grass. Some people are just plain parallel or perpendicular lines in relation to the house. I am a diagonal girl. I even believe I have influenced my creative yard art neighbor, for he has now adopted this method of mowing. I felt a rush of relief as the last swipes were done, but it was short lived. Because, what comes next is the bane of my very existence. The landscaping implement that I have a love/hate relationship with:



Blasted weedeater. I hate it but it is a necessary evil to the anal retentive homeowner. I got the edging and trimming done to the best of my abilities. I think I do a pretty good job, considering I do it all through gritted teeth, cursing the whole time. It looked awfully pretty, I think.



Yes, I am pretty OCD about the lawn, but it sure makes for pretty place to set the house. Now if I could just get a bit more OCD about the basement.

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