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Grass is always greener next door

I love everything about this time of year. It is all about life and the anticipation of it. Last week officially started our Spring season, which sprang from warm weather to snow in one day. Everything outside with life is on the verge of showing a display of green and color.
I feel like it brings with it a sense of hope and change. I will be the first to tell you that I enjoy going home in the winter and housing up. I enjoy having no guilt because I neglected yard since there is none. I don’t even mind the short daylight hours. It makes it much more cozier for wrapping up in a blanket and watching TV.
I came home last Tuesday to the smell of freshly mowed grass – that of my neighbor, Gary Amos’ lawn. Now Gary retired at the end of last year and he certainly has more time than I do, but it does look bad when he mows right up to the line ever so neatly to showcase his dark green blanket of lawn. This only emphasizes my ragged yard and wild onion crop. The fact that Gary has a lawn service to rid his of weeds and make it look greener doesn’t help my case any as well.
It was obvious that I was going to have to mow or buy a few goats. I don’t know that goats are allowed in my subdivision and the last thing I need is for them to get out and eat Pam Amos’ flowers. There are certain guidelines to being a good neighbor.
After changing clothes, I headed to the garage to realize I was out of gas in my mower and gas can. I made a trip to the gas station, where I decided I might as well fill up my car’s tank as well. While the car was filling up, I was racing to the pump next in the aisle, to fill up the can. I must say, I was working those gas pumps and overworking my debit card. For a moment I felt like the man at the pump beside of me was expecting me to come over and swipe my card for him as well. I gave him my “No, I’m not Bill Gates and this isn’t your lucky day” look.
I was sure I had the lid tightly on the gas can until I hoisted it up into the hatchback of my SUV. A good slosh of gasoline, soaked into the carpet and suddenly transformed my air freshener into a new fragrance known as “Fuel for Thought.” My thought was to check the lid better next time and hope that I didn’t get light headed. After all I had a yard to mow.
I also learned that filling up a small gas can is equivalent to what it used to cost to fill up a mid-sized automobile. I hopped in the car and was ready to get home and bring my lawn back up to a respectable level in the neighborhood. That was until I heard that “Whistle Blow, Erwin Train a Comin’.” This wasn’t going to get the best of me. It’s Spring and I had a yard to mow. Besides, if I waited on the train I might be there until Summer.
I raced back north on the interstate and cut back through town, finally pulled into the garage and fueled up my lawn mower. Again, some fuel sloshed out in the process but I am sure it usually happens at the Bristol Motor Speedway when those drivers refuel and must get on with the purpose at hand.
I backed out of my imaginary pit stop area and started on my course. Around and around and around I went for at least 50 laps. I tried not to slow down. I had no time to stop, reverse or take tight areas cautiously. I planned accordingly with wide sweeps, a steady speed and no braking unless absolutely necessary. Let’s just say that I was on a mission.
The daylight was fading away and the chill was overcoming me. I circled trees as if I was a cowboy rounding up the herd. I had to squint on the last few rounds to sharpen my focus for determining what had been mowed and what was still to go. Thankfully the wild onions kept me in line with reality.
As I made my last sweep, on the first of many mowings for the season, it occurred to me that I had a previously scheduled church meeting I was supposed to be at that night. The meetings normally end by 8 p.m. and it was now 7:45. I quickly parked the mower, jumped in my car and rushed to the church, where I arrived too late.
It snowed the next night. Maybe it was just heaven’s way of telling me I had my priorities wrong.