Fwd: Cutting the grass sucks!

    Cutting the grass sucks!

"Honey I can't go to your sisters this afternoon because I have to cut the lawn!" I yell over the football game. She unplugs the vacuum, throws her arms in the air and gives me that look. You know the look, every wife has one. The one you never saw before marriage, but now after several years it has become a prominent facial expression.
"What?" I question. "I'm cutting the lawn after the game is over. I'm  waiting till the game has ended. Unlike you. You know I hate it when you vacuum during the game. And I think the rest of the people in the stadium don't care for it either!"
Ya right cutting the lawn, this summer? She knew I was just trying to get out of visiting her wonderful sister who has it so much better than her. Wow! Her sister has a vacuum with a ball on it. What is it with her and sucking? I dare not bring it up as I know for sure it will get around to me.
It's not the grass that needs cutting, but the dandelions. Them and their sunny disposition! Bright happy yellow faces blowing, dancing and waving at me - look at us we are survivors! They're about half a meter high my neighbour with the perfect lawn tells me. "Hey Bob them weeds are about 18 in. high on your lawn. Just about as tall as the fine looking wheat you're growing in your garden there."
I correct him by pointing out that it's corn, not wheat, I'm growing, and that he should jump on the metric train at some point in this century. He responds with something about not biblical there were 12 disciples not 10, then laughs and goes in his house. Which is what I wanted all along anyway.
I don't really want to walk the whole yard just to cut their heads off. Last time I did that I looked like that character Pigpen on Charlie Brown. A cloud of dust enveloped me, just like Pigpen as I walked behind the lawnmower making breathing difficult and the wife's laundry hanging outside,....well let's just say she wasn't happy. I got the look! And words! Then it got real quiet. For a long time.
It's so dusty because I don't water the lawn, and it won't rain. Down in California where it's really dry a special prayer service was called for by many of the churches. They just didn't have enough faith for it to rain it seems. Oh sure thousands gathered,...but nobody believed enough to bring an umbrella.
 I don't water the lawn because we have to pay for every liter of water we use. And with this dry spell I'm conserving water any way I can. The lawn goes all brown and people think I really care for the environment. But it's just that I'm a cheapskate, not an environmental-skate.
Besides if I cut the lawn I have to cut the clover that's in the lawn too. And when you cut the clover you're going to kill or collect a few bees in the grass bag on the mower. Dandelion heads, clover heads, bee heads and me be heading for the house as I pour angry bees into the Green Cart. I'm surprised they still let me buy honey after what I've done to them over the years.
I peek out the curtains as the wife leaves the house on her way to her sisters. All is now well in my world. Except for the yellow heads with the sunny disposition. It's then that it hits me,..no she's on her way to her sisters. Pay attention.
Her vacuum! 'Her vacuum hit you?' No! That's what I'll use to collect all them, laughing in my face, dandelions. It's perfect really when you think about it. It will suck up all the dust in the yard. It's counter rotating brushes will rip their lemon coloured heads off and then grind it's legs out at carpet level.  And it has a headlight!
At first I'm surprised at how quite it runs when it's out in the yard. It seems to be working well, but requires a bit of patience going back and forth over each weed. I select weed after weed adding extension cords as needed onto my new yard buddy. And voila, about as quick as it takes to make a left hand turn on No. 3 Rd. on a Saturday afternoon I had made it look like I had cut the lawn thus avoiding a visit to her well to do sister's.
"The lawn looks good honey." The front door states as my wife walks in. "Why's the vacuum in the carport?" My wife questions, as she kicks her shoes, and any chance I have of getting away with this, to the door
Lie! Lie! Think of something cleaver! My brain yells at me. You were fixing,...?? That won't work, she knows you don't fix things! Someone broke into the house and you caught them heading out the door with her precious vacuum. Maybe? Might work.
"I was in the yard vacuuming when I caught this guy leaving the house with your precious vacuum,..." I..stutter. And then I get the look. And then words, and then quiet. Very quiet. All I remember her last statement ended in a question. I have no idea how to respond. As usual. I may have whimpered,...I'm not sure.
That was two weeks ago and now I'm out in the yard with her vacuum again. Ridding the lawn of my cheery yellow friends. It's my vacuum now. The wife now has a new bagless Dyson with a big ball for a wheel, just like her sister. Small price to pay I figure to get things back to somewhat normal again. We're going to her sister's later today. Together! We go everywhere together now, and will be for the foreseeable future apparently.

Bob Niles