Tim's attention lately has been focused on the car. The one he won. The one I thought we were going to sell. Yes, that one. Anyway, he's spent much of his free time purchasing parts, fixing things on it, cleaning it, basically everything short of making love to it. We have decided to keep it for the time being and I'm beginning to feel some serious regret over the decision. Painfully, I'm the one that actually suggested keeping it for a little while.
Since his attention has been focused elsewhere, our poor yard has paid the price. Don't get me wrong; it still looks nice to most people's standards. But I'm used to having a meticulous mad scientist (aka my husband) looking after our lawn. So, I assumed (first mistake) Tim was going to come home Friday afternoon and mow the lawn. Nope, apparently he had a date with his car yet again as the lawn was screaming for help. I took matters into my own hands and decided to get out the lawnmower. I tried to start it while Tim was out picking up a part for his beloved, but I couldn't figure out how (pathetic, I know). After numerous instructions from the kids, "This is how Daddy does it....you have to do this. Maybe it's out of gas," I almost gave up. But then I looked at the lawn again and realized how much it needs me.
Finally.....the part about actually mowing the lawn! I. LOVED. IT. It was peaceful despite the loud engine of a lawnmower. I was in my own zone. I was by myself (so nice). I felt like I was actually accomplishing something.....it is my new favorite chore. I wanted to mow the lawn again today....I'm sure this feeling will pass, but thought I'd at least document it while I could still remember the feeling.