The Mower No Longer Works

May 28 – Well, I’m still alive and kicking as my dad used to say, but today I could at least face the music and accept the fact that I really was the one who was mowing the lawn when problems that I did not expect, far from that, showed me that I can’t always be in command of any or all situations!

How well I remember the old days when one or more of my five brothers told me I couldn’t do something or other either “because you’re too little to understand,” or “if Mom ever finds out that you did something like that, and showed your little sister how, we’d all be in a lot of trouble!”

I always remembered the old saying my folks taught us, “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again!” And what happened a few days weeks is no different. When I found a problem with the riding lawn mower, I had no worries at all. After all, how many years have I been using that machine to mow about five acres every week and sometimes a little more often if the weather doesn’t cooperate?

if Mom ever finds out that you did something like that, and showed your little sister how, we’d all be in a lot of trouble!” – One of my five brothers

But that mower, now just a skeleton of its former self, sits out in the sunshine on a little hill where any passers-by can exclaim: “What happened? I never before saw such a messy piece of junk? Why don’t you take it to the backyard where everybody won’t be wondering what happened?”

And finally out of sheer concern, some of the folks will come right out with it. They want to know if it was an accident or if I did do something on purpose to destroy that beautiful mower? But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself!

Burn, baby, burn!

I really do enjoy mowing, especially when there is so much unwanted grass to get rid of, that I go scooting around the five-mile-area like a breath of fresh air. Back and forth finishing up the lawn, not paying much attention to anything specific. And so it was last month… and then very slowly the mower engine stopped, and I hopped off trying to figure out the problem.

Somewhere near the front of the mower and low down, I saw a couple bits of what looked like fire. That didn’t bother me. I just kicked towards the fire but it kept on burning. When I realized that it had no intention of stopping, I left the scene in a hurry, going to call Dale for help.

On the way past the first window, I knocked loudly but got no response. Still running, I went inside the garage to get help from Dale. We ran together towards the mower, but by that time a huge black cloud was coming out of the now fully-burning machine.

Grandson Robbie, who had just worked on the garage door, came around to the fire and took some pictures. A bit later his dad Harvey and Grandpa Bob Reynolds drove up to take more. Bob said that in all of his life close to 90, he’s never seen a mower on fire. Well, neither had I! Dale had to do most of the talking at first to let the folks know what happened. But nobody knew the whole strange story, as it had actually happened.

At first I said almost nothing because I didn’t trust my thoughts, for they were all scrambled up. I watched the family members as they came to check out the ruined mower. But I didn’t say much and just let the family tell about what they knew or guessed. Not much because no one else had seen the accident. I stood quietly by as the men asked each other questions as to what really did happen. By the next day I tried to go back to the beginning and let them know the sad story.

And I’ll finish telling you the rest of that story tomorrow! – CHRIS

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