For the last couple of days, I’ve been working on the lawn and garden aspect of BangShift Mid-West. Lucky for me, that involves sitting down and turning a steering wheel, because that’s about all I need to be doing after a weekend of health issues that has basically left me with doctor’s orders forcing me to calm it down for a bit of time. Since I can’t think of anything more calming than riding a lawn tractor on a sunny spring day, I had no trouble finding the big-brimmed hat, sitting down and enjoying the sweet smell of cut grass onion-grass the day before yesterday, followed up with the smell of freshly-turned dirt as I used a mini-tractor to move the last of a three-year-old pile into areas of my yard that turn into a pond with a heavy rain yesterday. Those of you who own a house know my pain…the work is never done.

But after I parked the tractor and came inside for a rest break, I got to thinking about the strangest contraption that I’d ever used in lawn maintenance. To preface this, let’s start with any young kid’s motivation for work: I wanted money. And at an age before I could legally drive, yard work was a surefire bet to have a bit of coin in my pocket. We didn’t have much of a yard to maintain at the house in Washington, but what we did have was easy enough to deal with. I’d been used to using the typical lawnmower for years…you know the kind: a pull-start Briggs and Stratton on a four-wheeled cart with a single blade underneath. By the time I was starting middle school, I could’ve drawn you some of Picasso’s works in the grass, I was that good. I also had a standard non-powered push mower for those days I felt like a masochist. And then there was the day my brother managed to tear the string out of the pull-start, then in his hurry to prove that he had mechanical skill, managed to completely unwind the recoil spring, then bent the crap out of it trying to put it back together.

With my source of income out for repair at a professional’s shop, it was decided that a similar implement would be borrowed until the actual mower was brought back home. The truck left…and a couple of hours later, the truck returned with a dated Flymo hover-mower in the bed. I do believe this was the first time I ever blatantly spat out “WTF?” in it’s full form in front of my stepfather. There’s an engine, but no wheels. Just what the hell am I supposed to do with this thing? “Use it like a regular mower!” was the answer.

I want you to picture the lawn as I mowed it: the side yard had a major slope that went to a hill loaded with blackberry bushes. The backyard had one massive granite stone that stuck up at least four inches out of the ground that had to be dealt with, and there was the combination of thin dewberry vines and thick salal bushes to deal with if this thing hovered beyond it’s intended target. And nevermind if a garter snake surprised me…it’s chances of survival were slim at best. The engine was fired up and the Flymo floated into life, and for the next twenty-five minutes, I flailed that thing around like I was mopping a floor. Did it cut the grass? Yeah…but only kind-of. I would’ve done better with a string trimmer and I said as much. The Flymo was returned to it’s owner shortly after, and I promise you that I was never happier to see a traditional mower in my life when the Craftsman unit returned to the house.

One of the first opportunities for a kid to play with an engine involves yard work. I encourage that…provides exercise, gives the kid a responsibility, and gives you a break. I just hope you don’t make them use a hover-mower.