April 6, 2003

• Rain went away.
  
  Opened garage, dug out lawn mower. Assembled handle. Opened gas tank. Empty, natch.
  
  Searched for gas container. None to be found.
  
  Headed to Fred Meyer’s (local chain of everything stores). Got potting soil, gas container, WD-40, magazine. Headed to gas station. Filled up car, container.
  
  Got home, filled up mower tank, started mower, cut front yard. Had fond and not-so-fond memories of arguing with dad about cutting the yard. Remembered getting just enough yard-cutting money to go buy a model at the mall. Sundays were filled with dusty yard mowing and second-hand model glue inhaling.
  
  Finished front yard, ate banana, tossed peel in compost bin. Some neighbors came and asked me if they could buy the nice park bench in my back yard. Told them I rent. Sorry.
  
  Hoisted the mower up the two steps to the backyard patio. Pull the handle, nothing. Clankety clankety. Mower is dead. Back yard grass far from dead, growing into savannah.
  
  Pondered taking the thing apart and fixing it, but then pondered landlord: “You broke it!” Put mower away.
  
  Repotted the lovely little succulent that’s been struggling so hard in it’s tiny pot. It had grown up against the window, and couldn’t stand on its own. Had to put a stick in the pot to support it. It’s very happy now, even with a slightly lopsided root system.
  
  Next on the agenda: Drive-thru picnic to some place like Matthews Beach. Ah, my lonely life.

  • 9:41 pm
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