While at my sisters house I had the opportunity to mow their
lawn. It was maybe 15 or 20 yards deep and half as wide. It might seem like a
pretty normal activity, but remember that one event, when looked at through a
different persepective, can seem very different. Here is what this event might
look like through the eyes of an Irishman. This is my perspective as the Irish
blood in my veins pumps through my heart, into my brain, and down to my fingers
that compose the words. Do me a favor and read the following with an Irish
accent. It will be more authentic then.
*          *          *          *          *          *
            Ah surveyed
the scene before me and shuddered. It was enough to make a grown man lose some
sleep and ah racked my brain tryin to recall why I had agreed to this. It
seemed like all I could see before me was weeds and there were likely a
thousand more behind them still.  There
were mountains and valleys to be traversed and that wasn't to mention the weeds
that would have to be sheared and the toys scattered about like landmines just
waitin to trip me up and break me ankle.
            I wouldn’t
have believed it was even possible if it werent’ for the Red and Black Beauty
of a lawnmower that stood nearby, sleek and ready for the task. And what a
beautie she was, a real solid pushmower (not self-prepelled cause only a sissy
uses one of those) smooth, Aerodynamic. Am no expert, but I think she probably
ran on a 28 cylinder motor. She had some real fire and when she got goin she
didn’t stop till the job was done: that bein no more than a few minutes per
acre when she had a good appetite. That, coupled with her unconquerable spirit,
was why I named her Clare! I had borrowed her from the neighbor just a few
hours before and ah couldn’t wait to see her when she was doin real work.
Ah looked at the tall weeds and
considered acquire’n a chainsaw to hack through em, but figured ah might slip
and put a hole in the fence which would av caused some upset with the neighbor
who had lent me the mower in the first place.
            Ah walked
over an pulled the starter and me faithful mower roared to life with more kick
and spunk than a lion an more hunger than a Scotsman after a week without eatin
or drinkin.  She raced forward tearin up
the grass, and it was goin better than I ad even thought it could for about 3
seconds before she stunned me by seemin to lose her gas. Me trusty mower
sputtered a few times and then died with a final shudder, givin up the fight.
ah walked around and around her a
few times and puzzled over what could be the matter. It shouldn't av taken a
genius to figure out she really had run out of gas, but mah old man gave the diagnosis
that proved the cure. We filled her up and tried to start her up again, but the
weeds were too tall so we ‘ad to adjust her a bit so she mowed higher. But then
I got me a real shocker!
“In order to get the grass short
enough you’re probably going to have to lower the mower after you go around
once.” Me old man told me calm as a breeze.
            “what! Ya
mean ah’m gonna have to tame this football field of a rainforest ya call a
lawn, not once but twice! Have you lost yer mind? I’ll probably get eaten alive
by the grasshoppers and mosqitoes before I starve to death. I hope I can join
you for Saint Pattys day… of the year after next! !@$#@ Ah’ll probably need the
time.”
            But what’s
a man to do when faced with a job than to go about it so it gets done. After I
got mah crazy beast of a mower started up and chewin again we got into a bit of
a rhythm and I decided to just go ahead and mount the front and supervise while
she did the work. I got comfy and leaned back against the two black bars that connected the handle bar and the body of the mower. I clasped my hands behind me head. Weeds and dirt were flyin through the air and ah couldn’t
help but laugh in glee as the wind tore through me clothes and hair.
            It was
probably a few hours later or maybe a year when I woke up and I could hardly
believe me eyes when I surveyed the damage.
“ya did wonderful Clare! Look at
what we’ve accomplished!”
I got the wheels adjusted and we
took off again. all grudges forgivin, we worked as a team, and I don’t remember
ever havin been one with a mower like that. It was somethin that might have
gotten a lad to cry if any ad cared enough to watch us out there as we flew and
ducked and darted through the grass.
At last a bit winded, but feelin
satisfied I let Clare take a well-deserved break. Our work for the day was
done. I checked my watch, 1:00pm. Time for a snack. I couldn’t wait to think of
what me nieces would think of their new habitat.
*          *          *          *          *          *
            Perhaps
best of all, was my 5 year old neice proclaiming bluntly, “Uncle Nate mowed the
law. We didn’t recognize it!”
|  | 
| That grasshopper nearly had me leg! | 
 
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