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On my walk this morning, in an attempt to get it over and done with before the heat and humidity set in for the day (but apparently not early enough!), I saw a young woman out mowing her lawn. My first thought was that of being thankful we’d already completed that chore ourselves – Bill normally does the front yard while I do the back but sometimes, I mow it all – and then it occurred to me that I don’t know that I’ve ever seen another woman in our neighborhood mowing the grass, aside from my rock star neighbor, Angi, and me.

Cue back a few years ago: Angi and I enjoyed a friendly mowing pattern competition one summer where we’d post our most recent lawn art on Facebook with a ‘top that’ throw-down challenge. It was fun and a little zany but after a while, we either ran out of ideas or motivation to continue. In any case, the point here, is that Angi mows their lawn the majority of the time and when my RA (last summer) or fractured toe (this year) hasn’t prevented me from getting out there, I actually like mowing.

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I think mowing one’s lawn is great exercise, allows for your daily dose of Vitamin D and provides relative solitude for some serious think time. And I got to thinking – do most women prefer that their husbands or boyfriends handle this chore? Or are there any – like Angi and me – who don’t mind it at all?

How about a show of (feminine) hands: Who likes (or at least doesn’t mind) mowing the lawn? Who wears the mowing pants in your family? Is this something you enjoy? Why or why not? I’d love to hear from you!

Tonight, we mowed the yard for the first time this year.  I love the neat, orderly look of a freshly trimmed lawn.  I love the smell of grass.  I love the physical exertion required to push the mower, in sometimes playful, elaborate patterns, across the length or the width or the diagonal of our property’s dimensions.  (I opted to mow the length of the back yard this first time out.  A quick glance out the window, just now, tells me that Bill chose to do the same for the front.)

My contribution to finishing this task took just under thirty minutes.  Not quite enough to satisfy my self-imposed daily exercise requirements.  Perhaps I’ll have to tackle the whole thing next time around.  I will, however, let Bill do the more demanding chore of mowing along the fence line (his preference, anyway) so that I don’t chew up the wheels on our new mower – like I did sometimes with the last one – by getting too close to the screws along the bottom plate of our wrought iron fence.

For now, though, I’m pleased with the results and the energy expended to get the job done.  There will be plenty more opportunities in the weeks and months ahead to repeat what’s essentially, for me, a most enjoyable task.

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