Today is supposedly the final day before manned flight depletes the populace. I’ve no belief in the prediction. We’re continuing to live life as normal, paying our bills, freezing strawberries for later in the year, etc. Mowing the lawn is another task that we can’t delay in expectation of world’s end.
We have a fairly good-sized lawn. We arrived here with a walk-behind lawn mower and a very old, very small string trimmer. During the first summer, we decided to add a gas-powered string trimmer and a riding mower. The trimmer has since self-destructed and been replaced by a low-end commercial trimmer. It works well. The walk-behind mower gave up and began shedding housing cooling vanes. We replaced it this year rather than risk gas-powered shrapnel. The mower is a low-end one that normally functions well.
The months of April and May have been wet and stormy, making it necessary to mow the lawn more frequently but offering fewer days to do so. Today was forecast to be dry so I planned on mowing after the hike with Mike.
It has remained dry. So I have followed up on my plans.
The gas-powered trimmer has vibration damping and I use it with sorbothane-padded biking gloves to limit vibration transmission to my arms, shoulders, and neck. But by the time I’ve trimmed the usual areas and any problem spots that I can’t finesse one of the mowers into, I am unable to hold a bottle of water in either hand. Fine motor control is even more unavailable. I try to trim first whenever possible.
Today, the trimmer took its usual toll and left me with both hands shaking. Next in line, today, the riding mower. I checked the fuel and oil levels, added fuel, brushed off a wasp laying eggs in a bolt head, and tried to insert the key. The key, simple little metal device that has always fit into the ignition lock, refused to slide into place. At first, I assumed that my lack of digital coordination was the problem. So, I used two hands for the insertion. Two were no better than one.
I checked the key to be sure I had it properly oriented. Then I saw the small amount of dirt-colored powder on the ignition switch. I pushed the key in as far as it would go, wiggled it around, and pulled it out along with more powdery dirt.
In a flash, I realized that since I had last mowed the lawn, the mower had become a breeding chamber for the next generation of wasp that lives nearby. Five minutes spent repeating this maneuver gained another 0.25 inch of key entry. I trekked inside, found a small paper clip and WD-40, and told Gloria what had happened. It took yet another 5 minutes to remove still more dirt, a grub intended as food, and a wasp egg. A shot of WD-40 to clear the lock and the mower kicked over easily.
Before returning it to storage this afternoon, I sprayed it with wasp/hornet killer. One wasp-obstructed switch is unique and worth commentary. Two or more is just failure to learn from the situation.
The new walk-behind mower started on the first pull and has sufficient self-propulsion power to pull me along behind it.
The wasp incident is unique in my experience. Thought I’d pass it on. For one wasp, the world ended earlier even than predicted.
Dinner tonight, a pho variant with dumplings, bok choy, and tofu.
Shabbat Shalom! See you tomorrow, and the next day, and the next!
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