The Tyrany of Gardening Implements

Why is it that when adversity strikes, more of it comes to bash you over the head? With Paul not only still recuperating from the lung surgery followed by a whacking great pneumonia that has rendered him so weak and physically unable that he's almost lost interest in even looking out of the window to see the grass growing taller and the weeds spreading and winding around everything, then this is the time that the things I depend on to put our yard in order decide to give up the ghost too. First the ride-around mower spooks a front wheel--wobbly and a flat tire--then the dependable little upright mower that always works when the ride-around gets temperamental gets a hole in its gas tank, forces me to use duct tape to repair a loose handle, and then finally grinds to a halt and dies. It's now up to me to come up with the right approach to these mysteries. I call Sears and renew the ride-around's warranty for another year and make a repairman appointment--he can't come for ten days!. Next I visit the local Sears and buy a new upright. and Wendy transports it home for me in her pickup. But it won't work properly. It scrapes the ground, stops at the smallest bumps, and throws grass in clumps. I wait a couple of days. The grass grows longer. Phil and Kim return from their Memorial Day camp and save the day. They raise the wheels on the mower, show me how to convert it from mulching to regular, and are furious with the salesman at Sears for not explaining how the mower should work. As quick as a wink, P and K were all over the grounds, Kim mowing, Phil weed-whacking, while I make coffee and ice-cream waffles to refresh them. This morning I have what we call the field and the orchard left to mow and weed whack, and I think it will be a pleasure. Hope so.