Tag: gardening

  • My lawn mower hates me

    You have all seen them. The people who make mowing the lawn look easy. Those people who are just walking peacefully after their lawn mower in their yard. They are walking at a leisurely speed while barely exerting any effort to push their lawn mower. Some are actually even going fast. They make it look effortless. Some even look like they’re running and some even look like they’re enjoying it! I’ve always seen people like that and thought to myself that mowing a lawn is probably easy. Anybody could do it. Even I could do it!

    I call BS on all these happy people mowing their lawn in an effortless manner. Mowing is not easy. Or maybe I’m just really really bad at it. If you’ve been reading my blog, it’s a very good possibility. I’m naturally bad at cooking so I could very well be naturally bad at mowing a lawn. If that’s even a thing. Maybe no one has been bad at mowing a lawn before. Maybe I invented being bad at lawn mowing.

    Before I got separated, ex-husband just always took care of the lawn. He wanted to. He enjoyed it. Or if he didn’t, I didn’t know. It just seemed like a man kind of thing. It’s a man’s job, I thought. The feminist in me is very disappointed in myself at this thought. All the lawn responsibilities just somehow fell on him so for over 10 years I never even thought of lawn care. It never even crossed my mind. He made it look easy, so I figured it couldn’t be that hard.

    In 2021 my husband moved out and here I was with a big old lawn and no idea how to take care of it. As I said, everybody made it look so easy so I thought it would be no problem at all. I thought it would even be FUN! I could do it. I am a strong, independent, intelligent woman, so mowing the lawn would be a piece of cake, right?

    With my head held high, and walking tall and proud, I march right out to the garage and introduce myself to the lawn mower. I explain to him that we were going to be best friends and from now on I would be hanging out with him. I know he probably really liked my ex, but I am actually way more fun I tell him with a wink. I wheel him out in the grass, and I look at him realizing that I have no idea how to start a lawn mower. I watch a YouTube video, but honestly, I don’t know how anyone learns anything from YouTube videos. People always report that they learn so much from watching YouTube videos, but I just don’t. I can’t concentrate that long. I get bored. But still, I sort of watch one and then I’m ready.

    You just pull that little stringie thing, right? That’s how everybody does it in the movies. Simple simple. So, I pull the string and nothing happens. I talk to the lawn mower nicely and say, “look, I know you and my ex had a great relationship, but it’s just going to be us from now on so let’s make the best of it.”  And I high five his cute little lawn mower side. Then I try again, and I try again, and I try again. I will not be deterred, I think to myself, but the darn thing won’t start. I look up and see my neighbor across the street. I hate asking for help but I’m out of options.

    I walk over there and ask him very nicely if he will teach me how to use my lawn mower. He comes over and he says first of all, I should change out of flip-flops. You’re not supposed to mow your lawn in flip flops?!! I do everything in flip-flops. That doesn’t make any sense, but I’ll listen to him. (A couple weeks later I meet a friend for lunch and I was telling her the story and she told me it’s absolutely fine to mow your yard in the flip flops. Ever since then I always do. I have one pair of lawnmowing flip-flops. My feet are always grass stained and disgusting when I come in that they need a good scrubbing. It’s all worth it to not have to wear real shoes. Anyway, that’s probably too much information so let’s get back to my story.)

    My neighbor shows me how to check the gas. I feel a little silly because I did not know how to check for gas and I didn’t even think of it.  But the mower had gas so that wasn’t the problem. Then he shows me how to push this little button up front. Who knew you had to push a little button? My YouTube video didn’t tell me that. And then he shows me how you pull the string (just like I’d been doing) and it starts right up. That’s easy! I thank him and then I go inside to change out of my flip-flops.

    I come back out and check the gas even though we checked it together and it’s fine, I pump the little button, I pull the string and nothing happens. I pull it again and again and again and finally I have to go back over there and ask my neighbor for more help. It was just that I wasn’t putting enough muscle into pulling the little string. After I learned that, I successfully mowed my lawn for the first time. I thought I was going to die from heat stroke, but I was so proud of myself you would think I had just climbed Mount Everest. And can we talk about how hard it is to turn the lawnmower around?! Why is it so hard to turn?  I struggled while backing up and going forward and backing it up again. It is like I was making a five-point turn after every row.

    That mower is really hard to push, and my yard is a lot bigger than it looks. I remember my ex-husband complaining about it for years and saying we need a ride on mower. I told him he was just being a wimp, and we did not need a ride on mower. I told him our lawn was not that big, and he could easily do it. Well, now I kind of see his point, but I would never admit that and please don’t ever tell him that if you know him. We don’t want men going around thinking they’re right about things. Kidding! I love men. They are right sometimes.

    And that is how my lawnmowing adventure began over four years ago. You would think I would get the hang of it. You would think it would be easier. You would think the lawn mower likes me by now. You would think we are best friends. But for some reason, it’s just gotten harder and harder and harder. There was a point when the lawn mower wouldn’t even start for me. I would go out there ready to tackle the lawn and I would try and try and try to start the lawn mower and then I would just give up and go back inside. When my brother got home, I would tell him that the lawn mower was just not starting, and he’d go out there and start it on the first try. I tried not to take it personally, but it really felt like my lawn mower just didn’t like me. But that doesn’t make sense because everyone likes me! Does my lawnmower not realize how cool I am? I say the same thing about my children. Children and lawnmowers. They really just don’t appreciate us. Someday they will, I am sure.

    I swear that the grass grows six inches in one day around here. Every time I turn around the lawn needs to be mowed again. But also, it rains every day, so the grass is wet. I know they always say, don’t mow wet grass, and I know that, but the grass is always wet because it’s always raining. If I didn’t mow the grass when it is wet I would NEVER be able to mow the grass. I swear the backyard is up to my knees after three days. In this day and age, with all the advanced technology, how has no one invented a lawn mower that can cut wet grass?!? That is what the world really needs. And a few other things too, of course.

    A couple of days ago there was a break in the rain, and I saw neighbors out mowing their lawn with no trouble so I figured I could do it too. Mine was looking pretty bad. If they can do it, I can do it I thought. I went out and checked in with the grass. It seemed dry. It felt dry. It will be fine, I thought.

    But it didn’t work out as I planned. Every minute or two the lawnmower would die because it would get stopped up with wet grass. I would have to flip it over, pull the soggy wet gross grass out with my hands and throw it somewhere.  I would have to give it a little pep talk, wait five minutes, and try again. This went on for about half an hour, and I realized in my mind that I was actually wasting my time but I couldn’t let myself give up. I couldn’t even get a whole row done before it would die. It’s like the definition of two steps forward and one step back.  Except in this case, it could have been one step forward and two steps back.

    Is something wrong with my lawn mower? Am I doing it wrong? Have I been mowing my lawn for four years and I still don’t know how? Why is it so hard to mow a lawn? Does anyone else have these problems or is it only me? I have never seen anyone struggling in their yard like I do.

    Finally I found a trick! If I mow 6 inches, pull back 2 inches and lean it on its back wheels, then the grass sort of flies out from under it, and it doesn’t die. But that’s getting very little done and exerting a lot of energy. My hands are also sore and blistered after mowing that way. But is there any other way? I need to get this lawn mowed because the weather app says it’s going to rain for the next nine days. That’s not a surprise. 

    So I continue with that strategy for a row or two, but then once again it dies, so I clean it out, give it a little pep talk and a pat on the back, wait five minutes, and try to start it again. Every time this happens, it takes me at least four tries before it actually starts. But I get it done.

    I was mowing like this last night in my front yard, and I saw the neighbors across the street sitting in their garage, having a drink and watching their dog and kids play in the front yard. I hope they weren’t watching me. It’s really embarrassing that I’m so bad at mowing a lawn. I hope I gave them a good laugh, but I think probably they just felt really sorry for me.

    My mower is really hard to push. Even though it’s one of those self-propelling ones where you pull in the handle and the front wheels turn. I didn’t figure that out for the first five times I mowed the lawn, and I was really worried I had lost my muscle mass or something. But even with that feature, sometimes I don’t think I’m going to be able to push it. My lawn is lumpy. It’s not one of those perfectly flat lawns. We had trees and bushes that got knocked down from the hurricane and in those spots it’s not completely flat. So sometimes when I get to a lump, no matter how hard I push, the lawn mower doesn’t budge.  I push with all my might but it’s at this point I always worry if this is it, if this is when my lawnmowing career comes to an end. I wonder if I will just have to leave this lawn mower at the bottom of this lump in my front yard forever because it just can’t be moved. But then after pep talks to both me and my lawn mower, and a little extra energy, it goes over the lump. Until the next time. Does anyone else have a lumpy yard or a hard time actually pushing their lawn mower? You can’t even really see the lumps until you get to one with the lawn mower. And I’m a strong woman. I carried my kids up to bed until they were probably eight or nine even. But even my muscles are sometimes no match for lawn mower.

    I listen to books on tape or podcasts while I mow to try to make it more enjoyable. While I was mowing this last time, I was listening to Wild by Cheryl Strayed. She was talking about how difficult, how excruciating, how exhausting it was to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. I said girl, you don’t know anything about difficult and exhausting until you’ve tried to mow this lawn on Province Drive. At that moment, I honestly thought it would be easier to hike the Pacific Crest Trail alone for 100 days than it is to mow this freaking lawn. Looking back, I changed my mind about that but at the moment, that’s honestly how I felt.

    I FINALLY get the front yard mowed although it probably took 20 times longer than it should have.  I sit back with the feeling of accomplishment. Real accomplishment. Probably how Cheryl Strayed felt after completing her 1000-mile hike on the PCT.

    The next morning when I walk out and there are all those clumps of dried grass on my lawn from when I had to stop and clean it out. They have dried and turned brown so quickly. You know those little horse drawn carriage rides downtown? You know how sometimes there are big piles of horse poop on the ground before they clean them? That’s exactly what the dried grass looks like on my lawn. Big piles of horse poop. What do you do with that? I don’t see that on anyone else’s lawn! Am I supposed to shovel them up? And put them where?  In a bag? Do you just leave them? What’s the proper protocol here. What does everybody else do and why don’t I see horse poop looking dried grass clumps on anyone else’s lawn?!? Once again, am I doing this wrong?

    I was thinking about that bag that you put on the back of the lawnmower. I have one, but I’ve never put it on. I don’t really understand how it works. Wouldn’t it get in my way? Am I supposed to be using that? Anyway, I wonder if that is the problem. I should probably google it, but I never do. I just keep doing it this way.

    Why do we do things the hard way? Why are we set in our ways and stuck in our habits that we don’t even Google if there is an easier way. And if there is an easier way, will we actually try it? Does it take more effort to change to an easier way than just keep doing things as you’ve been doing them?

    Is this kind of thing like life? Where you look at Facebook and everything looks so easy for everyone else? Is mowing the lawn like that? Something that people just pretend is easy when really it’s hard as heck? Is this just something that no one talks about? Like how hard parenting is or marriage is? Or doing your hair? Or wearing not flip flops? Or is it only me? Or is it my lawn mower? Is mowing your lawn hard for anyone else?!? If not, just ignore this post and I will keep blaming the lawn mower.

  • The Plant Lady

    32 years ago, I met my friend Lee. We were freshman in college and soon became good friends and housemates and vegetarians and vegans together also. She now owns a beautiful farm in the Shenandoah Valley. Every year in early April, she comes to the Poplar Grove Herb and Garden festival in Wilmington to sell her plants. Poplar Grove is an old beautiful plantation near me where they have festivals throughout there year. There are food trucks and art vendors and even live bluegrass music played by a cute little family band! They even have fairy hair! Who doesn’t love fairy hair? Except me because my hair is falling out and probably all the strands with the fairy hair would be out in an hour if I ever tried it. It’s still pretty magical to look at people with sparkly hair.

    The location is charming and I love all their festivals, but I love this one most of all. It’s not just because my friend Lee is there selling her cute little plants. It’s because for two days every year, I am THE PLANT LADY. I could be that woman who owns a farm and grows her plants and travels to cute little festivals selling them. I could feed my family in addition to hundreds of others, with vegetables and fruits that I grow with my own hands! Little plants I water every day, talk to every day, and encourage their growth until they’re taller than me! That really could be me.

    I could sell everything I own and buy a plot of land and start a super successful farm. I only think this way for two days of the year. These are my favorite days of the whole year. I put on my Radical Roots t shirt, (that’s the name of Lee’s farm) and for two days, I stand out there and help her sell her plants. I greet people with a big smile on my face and I ask if they have any questions. If they ask where the lemon balm is or if we have German Johnson tomatoes, I can answer that. It’s so satisfying, and I feel like such a success when I get a question like that right. I sure fooled them! They actually think I work here. They actually think I’m part of this farm business. I must look like a real plant lady.

    But if they ask any other more complicated questions, I very politely say, “let me get my friend Lee.” I bring her over and I stand about a foot away restocking plants, but really, I’m eavesdropping. I can’t believe how much knowledge Lee has about plants and how to care for them and what they need. How does she know all that?

    People say they come back every year, they look for her every year, and they talk about what a great labor of love this must be. All these conversations warm my heart, and I feel so proud. Of Lee, of course, but also of myself because remember, for two days, I am the plant lady. This is me; this is my life. I grow these amazing fruits and vegetables, and I feed my family from them. “I’m just going to pop in the backyard and grab some food for our dinner,” I would say to my family as I walk out the back door with kitchen shears and a little wicker basket on my arm. (probably with some gingham liner in the basket). I got the wicker basket thing from the people who come to the festival with their own wicker baskets to put plants in! Isn’t that cute? They carry it on their arm and gingerly place pretty plants in it. A lot of them even bring wagons because when you’re buying Lee’s plants, you are going to need a wagon to take them home in. Back to my imagination, though. My plants would be so plentiful. I would put plates in front of my family filled with peas, green beans, and peppers. We wouldn’t even need any meat or starch, just vegetables grown by mom. I will have to put vegetables on my neighborhood Facebook page, giving them away for free because I just have too much to feed my family. This is what an amazing plant lady I am in my imagination, for these two days of the year only.

    I love the sunshine, the fresh air, and I love looking at all the beautiful plants. I love watching all the people come and buy plants. In my mind, I see each one of them going home and tenderly planting their plants and getting joy every moment watching them grow. Just like me.

    At the end of every festival, Lee gives me plants. Every year, I’m so inspired by my two days as a plant lady that I have such high hopes that this time, I’m going to keep these plants alive. This time will be different. But it never is. I buy big pots and organic soil, just like Lee advised me to. I plant these beautiful plants in these big pots and every morning, I water them, I talk to them, I sing to them, I beg them, and nothing. (Well, that’s not true. Two years ago, I had a very successful basil plant from Lee, but I can’t feed my family just basil for every meal. Can I?!?)

    I just don’t understand it! I do everything right! I even have the right attitude which is 50% of being successful at anything you try. Still, I don’t think plants like me. Except for those two days a year of course. All those little plants at the festival love me! I’ve completely fooled them also. When I get them home and they’re like, “What? You are THAT Brita! We’ve heard about you from the Plantbook! We are doomed!” Maybe that’s it! Maybe it’s because I have a bad reputation with plants. Maybe I’ll change my name and trick them all.

    My sweet friend Lee is so encouraging and understanding every year. She gives me new plants and believes in me. You would think after 10 years of killing her beautiful plants she would not trust me with them anymore. You would think she would refuse to give them to me or even lie to me and say she is not coming to Poplar Grove this year just to save her plants’ lives! I think before she hands one over to me, she kisses it gently and whispers, “I am so sorry.”

    But this year is going to be different. The plant festival was last weekend, and I pretty much fooled all of Wilmington (and all the plants) into thinking I’m a plant lady. I also came home with more plants than I ever have before! But this year I have my own house, and I can plant all the beautiful plants in the ground. The last couple of years I was renting so I planted them in pots. I’m sure that’s why I failed. (I know that there are plenty of people who successfully grow plants in pots. I heard them all at Poplar Grove saying things like, “I have this big pot on my balcony…. Blah blah blah.” Just for today though we will pretend that they’re all lying about successfully growing plants in pots. All lying! Every single one of them)

    Yesterday, my brother and I planted the garden. (The dog helped) I named each little plant and welcomed it personally as I packed organic dirt around it. I explained how we were going to be best friends and not to believe everything they read on Plantbook.

    The dog helping……

    I walked out this morning full of hope. “Day one and all my plants are thriving,” I thought to myself. Then the dog walked out behind me and went pee on my lettuce.

    I think I need a fence.

    My brother and I proud of our perfect garden.