Mowing my lawn made me feel like a woman

It's true. Before yesterday, I had never mowed a single blade of grass in my life. With only 30 minutes to spare before company was scheduled to arrive, I decided to take to the overgrown jungle in our backyard, the one that Matt typically tames but has been too busy to do so as of late. So I donned my brightest, gaudiest blue yard shoes and lugged the large push mower out of the gasoline-fumed storage room.

For the next 10 minutes, the mower and I stared at each other, wondering what was in store for each of us. Determined to finish the task I started, I poked, prodded, and pulled--all quite unsuccessfully. Unwilling to concede defeat, I finally decided to knock...on Bob's door across the street.

Bob is the kindest man I currently know. He's always telling us that if we ever need anything, we shouldn't hesitate to ask. So with the clock ticking and my pride waning, I did just that. Within a few minutes he stood over the mower, gently explaining to me how to check the oil, fill the gas tank, and crank the machine. I listened carefully, feeling simultaneously like a little kid trying something for the first time and like superwoman, unafraid of a new task. He cranked the machine, and I got to work.

Within twenty minutes, the whole backyard was trimmed to a nice, neat height of 2 inches, and I felt like I could take on the world. Thankyouverymuch.