Labor Day has come and gone, marking what many celebrate as the last blast of summer.
Technically Labor Day is a holiday to celebrate the social and economic achievements of American workers and not meant as a day for extra work. I get confused about such things as the years slip by, as I celebrated early with some extreme labor.
The past few weeks our less than reliable riding mower has been acting up again – despite an $800-plus investment earlier this summer. The battery was no longer holding charge and I had to jump start it before every use.
One would assume that a new battery would rectify the situation, which was finally accomplished after my third trip to the store to get the correct size. But after replacing the battery, the turn of the key resulted with a soft click rather than the engagement of the starter.
The back-up plan – as it was earlier in the summer – was to use the walk-behind mower. Unless I was to prevail upon the goodwill of a neighbor to borrow a rider, I had little choice. It had been 10 to 14 days since the lawn had been completely mown in a summer where plenty of rain has resulted in lush growth.
Earlier in the summer I spent a good portion of a day capturing the grass clippings to be used as garden mulch. There was no such plan this time around – I needed all of my time and energy just to get the job done.
Not only was the grass thick, but it was also wet. I had to wait until late morning to begin cutting the thinnest portion of the yard. But frequent stops to remove chunks of wet grass plugging the chute was part of the routine. In the old days I would have brought out the hay baler.
Engaging in repetitive and boring tasks like mowing the lawn takes me back to many days and hours spent on a tractor raking hay. I empty my mind – which is frighteningly easy these days – and put one foot in front of the other.
I slowly moved from section to section of the yard, which are patches of green vegetation that grow between the house and farm buildings. Little of the yard is flat, so even with the self-propelled wheels of the mower, pushing is required.
I took a few breaks to refuel the mower and rehydrate myself. A few years ago I would have had the energy to complete the job in one day. But after five hours and 28,463 steps according to the health fitness app on my phone (which is the equivalent of 8 to 12 miles, depending on which fitness calculator you use), I was spent. My bionic hips needed a recharge.
Day two, while the grass was drying, I turned my labor attention towards another task that was on my wife Sherry’s to-do list – power washing the front patio. It’s been a couple of years since I cleaned the concrete.
Pressure washing is another task that requires plenty of patience. Inch-by-inch, foot-by-foot, I removed dirt, grime and some lichens from the north-facing patio. The instant results are gratifying.
Then it was back to mowing. Day two ended with me limping like a cowboy after a long ride, the result of 25,344 steps or 7 to 11 miles. There were still a few areas of the yard that I didn’t mow, based on the shorter grass length.
I now have a few options as I recover from my labor days. I can attempt to diagnose and repair the riding mower, have it professionally repaired, continue my marathon walking sessions or just let the grass grow.
Before you know it, I’ll be having to fix my snowblower anyway.