Suicide Attempt

In a recent post I eluded to the fact that I had PUSH mowed my three acre yard. Yes, I said PUSH mowed. Apparently I was attempting suicide subconsciously.

I had never had the push mowing experience until yesterday. My dear Daddy spoiled me rotten and I never had to do that before. It was fun for about 30 minutes. Then just like the toys we panic over buying our kids for Christmas - the "new" wore off real quick!

The first two hours I was motivated.....the yard needs mowing.....this is great exercise....I am saving money on gas for the mower.....I am impressing the heck out of my hubby.

By hour three I was taking breaks every 15 minutes so that I could make the tingling in my legs subside and rest my hands that were tired of holding the bar on the mower that keeps it running.

By hour four I was cussing my husband with each breath I took. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. "Jeremy is an A$$." Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. "I am going to push this mower where the sun doesn't shine in dear Mr. Vincent!"

By hour five my sweet Daddy came to check on me (because I wasn't answering my phone) and laughed at my near lifeless appearance. "You look like you have been hit by a truck," he said. I thought to myself, being hit by a truck might have felt better than the past five hours of landscaping torture had caused me.

When Jeremy came home at 11:00 from work I was out cold. This morning before I left at 7:00 I woke him up to say:

"You have an ultimatum on your hands. There are three choices for you!

1. You can fix the riding mower we have - cheaply.








2. You can find someone to bum a mower off of from time to time.







3. You can buy a couple of goats."






It will be interesting to see what he chooses, but honestly I am expecting a couple of goats to show up at our home any day now!