Cutting the Grass.

This evening I cut the grass with the help of my youngest son. He’s only six, so he did a lot of running around the yard and sitting in the flowerbed and stuff, but I cut the grass. Usually, my husband does it, but he’s been really busy lately, so I thought I’d help him out. I cut the front yard. Cutting my yard isn’t really a big job compared to what I used to do as a kid.

My dad and mom’s house is on acreage. ACREAGE. We had to cut acreage, PLUS my dad was too cheap to get a ride around lawn mower for a minute. So me, my sisters and my brother would split up the yard. At first, my dad would use the grass trimmer (you know for around the house and trees and stuff) and then my brother or somebody else in exchange for a smaller piece of land. NEWays, when you add up lazy siblings (cause somebody always wanted to be trife, and we ALL got in trouble if it wasn’t done, and I could get in trouble by my own self), it was a lot of work. So although some think it is a sizeable job to cut my yard, it isn’t so bad once I get started.

This Summer, though, I guess I’ll get Al started on the rite of passage known as learning to cut the grass. You know, as long as I can afford him, cause he is always looking to put money into his piggy bank.