Always living in the country, mowing wasn’t such a big deal. On a rare occasion we might hit it more than once in a week’s time, but that didn’t happen very often. It’s different when you live in a neighborhood.
A doctor lives across the street from me and his yard is huge and pretty amazing. A crew rolls up with trucks pulling multiple mowers on trailers. They converge on his yard and landscaping in a flurry and when they pull away there’s not a blade of grass out of place. My puppies think it’s a wonderful show…
The house immediately to my south is mowed by one guy hired by the owner that doesn’t even live there. He mows often and he’s particular — moving diagonally so it looks pretty. The owner of the house to my north mows his own yard and would likely be labeled the slacker instead of me.
I started mowing today the second the good doctor’s crew arrived to do his. I’ll betcha the slacker’s wife will be on him to mow tomorrow — and the other neighbor will be calling her guy to mow again, as well.
I’d mow every day just to watch the frantic whirl of sweating people cutting grass to a specific height if I didn’t like the slacker guy so much.