For summer most of my friends have jobs. One, whom I like to call my brain, is N+ certified and works on the school's computers. Another, who I should start calling my energy, has two part-time jobs. Me? I'm still stuck in the mowing lawns/babysitting industry. That's alright though. I have a grandma who seems to have this magical, bottomless wallet.
But I've decided it's probably high time for me to retire--before they kick me out. Babysittings fine. I figure that one changes with every kid. No, I'm talking about mowing lawns. Pushing a heavy noisemaker around in the same rectangle for a couple hours gets a little...redundant. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. But I'm afriad my grandmother's renters might be. Because when things get redundant, I have this subconcious tendancy to, well, shake things up.
Some of you long-time followers have probably read my previous post on mowing. Not much has changed, as you will see. I still mow with my trusty partners whom I like to call iPod and Headphones--both of which have come close to the same tragic fate as the grass.
I'm one of those music listeners who has to sing along. It's like this uncontrollabe urge I get. I can't just let the lyrics roll by without joining in--especially when I'm alone and especially when I'm in a good mood: both of which were the case here. It doesn't help that I have every song on that thing memorized word for word. So I sang everything that came on, not even missing a beat. The more I did it, the more fun it became. And the more fun it became, the louder I got. I thought for sure the mower would cover up my oh-so-lovely voice, but a comment from my aunt (Hi Juju! :) let me know otherwise.
"Yeah, I went out to my car and could hear you just singing away."
"Your car?" I asked, a little color filling cheeks. That was a good 100 meters away! "Yep. And I thought you were one happy mower!"
"Your car?" I began to gauge the approximate circumference of my soundwaves. There really weren't that many other houses nearby, but I suddenly felt for the renter who was right in the center. His windows were probably opened.
"Yeah, it made me laugh, but I figured singing must make it go by faster."
"Your car?" The distance seemed to expand each time I said it. Poor, poor renter. He'd even offered me a water bottle. Maybe my voice was getting hoarse.
And then I remembered something else...
I believe it was in the middle of an epic Pokemon song (the kind thats so upbeat you can't help but belt it out. Or am I the only one that feels that way?) that my cousin (Hi Alicia! :) and her family came walking by. Of course, I was busy performing hard-core to my green audience and had my eyes shut to create a good effect. By the time I finally spotted them, they were half the distance of the lawn. I gave them a sheepish wave and they returned it, chuckling. I had no idea how long they'd been watching me, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
And, unfortunetly, that's not all folks. After all this mowing, the grass was so thick that it didn't bag well and I had to go back and rake it all up. Well, we have this really fun green wagon that was big enough to give each other rides through the hardware store when we first bought it. But, in this case, I was using it to load up all the grass. My goal was to fit at least four piles in before dumping it and returning for another load. In order to do that, though, I had to push some of the grass down to make room.
But shoving grass down with my hands so many times got a little...redundant.
So I hopped inside and began stomping--or rather dancing--around in it until all the grass was pushed down. This worked rather effectively and so I moved to the next pile, loaded it in, and then hopped back on top of it all to resume my stomping and slight booty-shaking.
I swear the ground was uneven. That or I'm just pathetically clumsy. Or both. Either way, somehow I ended up lying on the freshly mowed lawn with freshly mowed grass all over me and my feet in the upturned wagon.
Now someone who was smart might rush back to their feet and brush themselves off before anyone noticed (come to think of it, someone who was smart wouldn't be up there in the first place.) Someone who was smooth might've come up with some clever excuse and casually got back up like nothing happened. But I'm neither of those. So I just laid there and laughed.
I could just see the renter's visiting relatives looking out the window now, "Um...so who is that again?"
"My...uh...she's my landlord's...uh, hey are you hungry? I'm starving. How about some lunch?"
And even after all of that, when I finished hauling all the grass over the small hill that leads into the wash, I was so excited to finally be done that I couldn't help but mutter:
"Racers, start. your. ENGINES!!"
I gripped the handle of the wagon and made the appropriate sound effects.
"Ready, set, GO!!!"
And with that I went sprinting down the hill, wagon trundling noisily above all my makeshift engine noises the whole way. (Yeah, people no longer ask me what I'll be when I grow up, they just slice it in half: when will you grow up?)
I heard a quote today in church that brought all this back to mind and made me smile, " Never be afraid to laugh at yourself. Afterall, you may be missing out on the joke of the century."
But I've decided it's probably high time for me to retire--before they kick me out. Babysittings fine. I figure that one changes with every kid. No, I'm talking about mowing lawns. Pushing a heavy noisemaker around in the same rectangle for a couple hours gets a little...redundant. Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining. But I'm afriad my grandmother's renters might be. Because when things get redundant, I have this subconcious tendancy to, well, shake things up.
Some of you long-time followers have probably read my previous post on mowing. Not much has changed, as you will see. I still mow with my trusty partners whom I like to call iPod and Headphones--both of which have come close to the same tragic fate as the grass.
I'm one of those music listeners who has to sing along. It's like this uncontrollabe urge I get. I can't just let the lyrics roll by without joining in--especially when I'm alone and especially when I'm in a good mood: both of which were the case here. It doesn't help that I have every song on that thing memorized word for word. So I sang everything that came on, not even missing a beat. The more I did it, the more fun it became. And the more fun it became, the louder I got. I thought for sure the mower would cover up my oh-so-lovely voice, but a comment from my aunt (Hi Juju! :) let me know otherwise.
"Yeah, I went out to my car and could hear you just singing away."
"Your car?" I asked, a little color filling cheeks. That was a good 100 meters away! "Yep. And I thought you were one happy mower!"
"Your car?" I began to gauge the approximate circumference of my soundwaves. There really weren't that many other houses nearby, but I suddenly felt for the renter who was right in the center. His windows were probably opened.
"Yeah, it made me laugh, but I figured singing must make it go by faster."
"Your car?" The distance seemed to expand each time I said it. Poor, poor renter. He'd even offered me a water bottle. Maybe my voice was getting hoarse.
And then I remembered something else...
I believe it was in the middle of an epic Pokemon song (the kind thats so upbeat you can't help but belt it out. Or am I the only one that feels that way?) that my cousin (Hi Alicia! :) and her family came walking by. Of course, I was busy performing hard-core to my green audience and had my eyes shut to create a good effect. By the time I finally spotted them, they were half the distance of the lawn. I gave them a sheepish wave and they returned it, chuckling. I had no idea how long they'd been watching me, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
And, unfortunetly, that's not all folks. After all this mowing, the grass was so thick that it didn't bag well and I had to go back and rake it all up. Well, we have this really fun green wagon that was big enough to give each other rides through the hardware store when we first bought it. But, in this case, I was using it to load up all the grass. My goal was to fit at least four piles in before dumping it and returning for another load. In order to do that, though, I had to push some of the grass down to make room.
But shoving grass down with my hands so many times got a little...redundant.
So I hopped inside and began stomping--or rather dancing--around in it until all the grass was pushed down. This worked rather effectively and so I moved to the next pile, loaded it in, and then hopped back on top of it all to resume my stomping and slight booty-shaking.
I swear the ground was uneven. That or I'm just pathetically clumsy. Or both. Either way, somehow I ended up lying on the freshly mowed lawn with freshly mowed grass all over me and my feet in the upturned wagon.
Now someone who was smart might rush back to their feet and brush themselves off before anyone noticed (come to think of it, someone who was smart wouldn't be up there in the first place.) Someone who was smooth might've come up with some clever excuse and casually got back up like nothing happened. But I'm neither of those. So I just laid there and laughed.
I could just see the renter's visiting relatives looking out the window now, "Um...so who is that again?"
"My...uh...she's my landlord's...uh, hey are you hungry? I'm starving. How about some lunch?"
And even after all of that, when I finished hauling all the grass over the small hill that leads into the wash, I was so excited to finally be done that I couldn't help but mutter:
"Racers, start. your. ENGINES!!"
I gripped the handle of the wagon and made the appropriate sound effects.
"Ready, set, GO!!!"
And with that I went sprinting down the hill, wagon trundling noisily above all my makeshift engine noises the whole way. (Yeah, people no longer ask me what I'll be when I grow up, they just slice it in half: when will you grow up?)
I heard a quote today in church that brought all this back to mind and made me smile, " Never be afraid to laugh at yourself. Afterall, you may be missing out on the joke of the century."
1 comment:
Danny and I DID see you! Here's how it all went down. I said:
"There's Dolly. She's mowing. Is she... (head tilt)... she's, like, dancing." And then I giggled and then Danny said, "She's so awesome." And I agreed, and then we went along our way. :)
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