I mowed my lawn today for the first time since late September.
The first mow of the season is always nice: I’m outside in the sun, working with my hands, doing something for the betterment of my home–but it also marks the last time I’ll enjoy mowing this year, just like every other year.
I know it doesn’t look like much, and there’s still plenty of trimming to do, but at least now my neighbors are back to respecting me.
Also, while mowing I found three golf balls (mine), one tennis ball (Hank’s), a cigarette lighter (neighbor’s), two newspapers (other neighbor’s, the one with the creepy sweatshirt), and one Lifestyle’s Pleasure Ribbed condom wrapper (definitely not mine; pretty sure I haven’t used a condom since the Bush administration*).
*Don’t think I didn’t see the potential for a condom/Bush joke, here… When you grow up with a last name like mine, you quickly learn that sometimes the best joke is the one that goes unsaid.