Showing posts with label yard work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yard work. Show all posts

Friday, March 19, 2010

Size and length actually matter....

Most mowers have adjustments for raising and lowering the mowing height. Be sure to set your mower on a solid surface such as a driveway or sidewalk and determine what height you get from various settings. Then, set your mower’s cutting height to match the appropriate height of cut for your particular grass.

I  have been mowing lawns since I was a kid, and have never really liked it...at least that is what I tell myself. Neither did my dad (in his t-shirt, shorts and dark socks with dress shoes).

My first source of income was mowing lawns. Ahhh...the joys of mowing and getting paid for it. So why do we do it? The thing is that lawn mowing makes absolutely no sense, if you think about it.

Power mowers are dangerous, loud, and probably bad for your hearing (maybe that’s why I don’t always answer JoJo sometimes). They also put out lots of emissions (far more per gallon than your catalytic-converter-outfitted car). At least that's what I tell myself while I put the mowing off until another day.

Lawn mowers also kill off the plants that would otherwise serve as homes for insects, birds, and usually other animals as well. And they sometimes kill the animals (snakes, frogs, etc.) themselves. Yeah that’s it…”back to nature.”

From what I gather, talking with neighbors and friends, a lot of us mow because we feel we have to fit in, or because some towns have so-called weed ordinances (laws that specify how wild our lawns can get), or because our wives tell us to.

Go ahead, by the way, and tell me I'm sexist (see "wives" above), but the reality is that mowing has, since I was a kid back in the 60s and 70s, always been primarily a man's job. When I see a woman mowing, I usually figure she's lesbian, or single, or, if the lawn is really long, that she's pissed off enough at her husband for putting the mowing off that she's taken matters into her own hands.

There's always the occasional man or woman who claims to like mowing. I sometimes hear people actually say they like it for the fresh air or exercise. Of course if people really mowed for fresh air and exercise, they would use natural, emission-free, hand-powered push mowers—the reel kinds, with no engine.

So why do we really do it?

For most people, though, the main reason for mowing is aesthetic. People think the lawn should look a certain way—i.e., "look nice." Or they think their neighbors feel that way (which they probably do).

If the motivation is genuinely aesthetic, though, then something just doesn't make sense. An uncut lawn actually has variety to it. It can have anything you want, from wild cup plants to luscious fruiting and flowering bushes—the kind of stuff people drive off into the country for hours to see when they're on vacation trying to "get away from it all."

Sometimes with a glass of iced-tea I still see my dad in my mind's eye... in his dark shoes and socks mowing our lawn when I was a kid. I was actually shy about his appearance then, but sometimes long for those days now as an adult. Thanks dad for teaching me how to mow the lawn properly and actually enjoy doing yard work properly. I too want my lawn to look as nice as yours always did years ago…I will just be doing the job in tennis shoes instead.

And my next book? "How to mow the lawn." --Fixing a faucet. --Carving the Thanksgiving turkey. --Impressing the fairer sex. --How to behave when a lady faints. --Mixing the perfect martini or mowing the perfect lawn. Being a man has become a lost art, but help is on the way. With more than one hundred "lost arts" documented throughout the book, “How to Mow the Lawn” will never let readers feel as if they don't know what to do should a manly situation come up.

Things I can use in everyday life....*The Great Outdoors: how to defend yourself against wild animals * The Perfect Host: getting rid of guests politely. This is a book that teaches men the basic survival skills they need to win the hearts and minds of the women they love and get through the pitfalls of life.

I guess my dad was right....mowing the lawn is important.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

..."Daffodils" (1804)....

OK...let's face it...2009 was a shitty year and we don't need to revisit it again...record unemployment, stock market crashes, swine flu...damn.

Spring is here. It's God's way of saying there is hope that things will 'renew' again. New leaves, new grass...and the season favorite..new daffodils. Count on them! They say in one 'bright hello' that we have hope again. Perhaps if you look deep into the daffodil...most of the pain of such a crazy year seems to drop-off a little. Maybe ...just maybe things are getting better.

The Dow is up, the sun is shining, Dilly is feeling better and more importantly we have all had the time to heal from last year. Let's focus on what the daffodil has to offer...a fresh 'new beginning.' Take the time to enjoy....and let's move into the future...but first, let's visit the past. Let's go back to 1804: Territory of Orleans organizes in Louisiana Purchase. Lewis and Clark set out from St. Louis for Pacific Coast. Senate and Tribune declare Napolean leader of France. Haiti gains independence from France. New Jersey becomes last northern state to abolish slavery. Congress orders removal of Indians east of Mississippi to Louisiana...and the daffodil started that spring...like this one.

"Daffodils" (1804)
I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

By William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

Sunday, August 9, 2009

My backyard buddy...

I have a buddy that visits me each day. Hummingbirds are very small birds with a high metabolism. A great deal of energy is spent flying, so they must feed almost constantly. This little guy....and his buddies keep me busy making fresh batches for the feeders.

Hummingbirds can consume up to twice their body weight in nectar every day. They usually feed on nectar and insects. Hummingbirds actually lap up the nectar with their tongues. A lot of people think that hummingbirds have a hollow tongue like a straw. Their tongues do have grooves on the sides that collect nectar. When the bill constricts, the hummingbird can swallow the nectar from flowers and feeders.

Hummingbirds are able to perch and will do so at my feeders regularly. Because they fly so much, they have poorly developed feet. They can barely walk at all. The hummingbird is much more comfortable in flight.

The flight of hummingbirds is amazing to watch. They are able to fly up, down, forward, backward and sideways. They can stop in midair. Hummingbirds are famous for their aerial display. Some displays are courtship displays; other displays are aggressive. Hummingbirds fly great distances when they are migrating. The Ruby-throated Hummingbird migrates approximately 600 miles across the Gulf of Mexico.

Hummingbirds lack a true song. Instead, they vocalize chirping notes. Most calls are short buzz trills and chirps. Hummingbirds' wings 'buzz' or make a whirring sound while the birds are in flight. This sound is referred to as a "wing whistle." As a matter of fact...I think I hear him saying, "Hey mister!! Your birdfeeder's empty!!"...(gotta go)

Sunday, May 24, 2009

a perfect day...

Ever since I was a young boy, I have wondered why on earth an older couple would want to stay in their manicured yard..and relax. I used to see 'older' people actually enjoying themselves in dialogue...in their yard.

How could this be I wondered? Why are they not out hiking or camping I thought? I wanted to scream at them over the fence..."get out and enjoy life"...wow...how boring I thought.

With the weather so perfect in Portland this Memorial week-end, I am sure that several hundred..if not thousands of people are flocking to find a piece of property to pitch and tent...and sleep on the ground.

But something special happened this weekend...I realized that "I" am that older person I saw when I was a young boy...my wife and I are that 'older couple' that enjoys listening to our huge water-feature pond, feeding the ravenous appetites of the Goldfinches, and more importantly I am not "afraid" of who I am (and have become)...I am at peace with myself! Finally!

We have worked for 15 years to get the look we have now... (we have worked longer on this yard than the number of years I was alive when I used to see old people in their yards). Well, I love my yard for the way it bombards my senses and shields me from the rat race. When I look out a window, walk out a door, or drive up in my car, I'm blinded by my own smile. After one of Portland's toughest white winters I can't get enough of its myriad shades of green and the songs of all the various birds.

The scent when I mow the grass ... wow, that fresh green fragrance ... there's no smell that brings back more Saturday morning memories than a freshly mowed lawn. The sound of the water splashing in our pond near the back patio, and the twittering of birds in the feeders in our 'bird garden' connects me to the natural world in a way that completely drowns out all other ‘stressful’ things in my life.

And to sit on the patio at the end of the day with a cool beverage, and feel the garden air play over my face, with the fragrance, and the splashing and twittering, and the scent of grass now mingled with the aroma of a perfect t-bone on the grill ... well, put it all together and it's the ultimate escape. What I did not know as that young boy (many moons ago)..is that "I deserve to sit on my ass after working all these years."

I love my yard...I love my wife....and I am not afraid to say...”I love my life."