Dear Secret Blogiary,
Aside from freaking out about packing up all my junk and then finding a place to stash all the said boxes of junk until Moving Day, I have been making a list of all the things we will need to purchase for our new place.
The list stands thusly and in no particular order:
1. outdoor garbage cans
2. clothes line
4. bunk beds
6. small dining room table
7. area rugs
8. lawn mower
At this point, that’s all I can figure until we actually get in there and see what else we might have need of.
Now with just under two acres, Mister W and I were quite aware of the amount of yard work we’d be doing and we immediately started figuring a budget to buy a lawn mower which would be a big expense.
He wants a BIG one. A ride on one. A Manly, with a capital M, one. Like this, the John Deere x749:
Me? I’d just prefer something we could afford. Like this self propelled Craftsman.
A few weeks ago, Big Sis and I were killing some time in Sears and wandered into the Lawn and Garden section.
“Let’s look at lawn mowers,” Big Sis said and headed over the display.
She eagerly climbed aboard one of the big John Deere’s and began making load engine noises.
“Really?” I asked.
She smiled. “I like this one!” she said twisting the steering wheel to the left. “And, I could help and I could practice driving at the same time.”
“Ha!” I laughed, “Like I’m gonna let you ever learn how to drive the way you crash grocery carts!” I shook my head and told her to hop off as I walked to the display of push mowers.
“These are a bit more in our price range.” I said looking at the line of shiny red, orange and green mowers.
Big Sis walked over and began playing with a mower. “It has too many things on it, Mom.”
“Hmm, and the ride on ones don't?” I replied looking at a simple, less expensive model, a non self propelled model. I got tired just thinking about pushing it across the lawn.
With a sigh I looked up at Big Sis and indicated that we should go. But then, as we turned to leave, we saw The Mower stashed away in the center of all the other mowers, kind-of hidden against a column.
“Mom!” Big Sis dashed further into the display, practically crawling over another row of push mowers. “This. Is. The. One.”
Following her, I tripped over the wheel of a mower and stumble up next to her.
“It’s beautiful,” I said. “Classic and Classy”
“And it’s totally in our price range,” she said holding up the tag. “Look, it’s a hundred less than that other mower you were ogling.”
“Yes, it is,” I replied, running my hand over the handle.
“You like it.” Big Sis sing-songed softly and then pulled it out to test it. She pushed it back and forth a few times, the blades making a soft click-click whoosh. “Let’s get it now.”
“We need to talk it over with Daddy,” I said.
“But,” She started, then stopped when I gave her The Look. “Fine.” She gave the mower another push then put it back against the column.
We turned to leave, narrowly escaping a salesman who had been circling for some time with another customer.
“You know, Mom,” Big Sis said as we walked out of the store, “we need it for three reasons.”
“First, it would be good exercise for us.”
“Second, Little Sis could help without you worrying she’d chop her leg off.”
“Finally,” Big Sis looked back over her shoulder for a last glimpse of The Mower, “during the Zombie Apocalypse, we’d still be able to mow the lawn and we wouldn’t have to worry about gas.”
Oh, Big Sis! Sometimes you know me far too well.