After 14 years of mowing our 2-acre front yard with a push mower, which often took between 12 to 14 hours, I opted for a riding mower a few years ago. A real John Deere tractor. Sure, I once rationalized using the push mower: Why pay for a gym membership when I can just mow the lawn and weed-whack? But, a couple of years ago, after The Great Fall of 2014 it became unpleasant to plod back and forth on the uneven terrain of our sloping yard, so I made the switch. My rationale shifted 180° to: Why push a lawnmower all day when I can go to the gym?
Don’t get me wrong - I love my wood-gathering chores, as I get to spend more time out on the property cleaning up our forest and stock-piling wood for the winter. I can still swing a pretty mean chain saw and mauling ax. It was the uphill pushing of wheelbarrows full of wood that was taking its toll on the both of us, actually.
So this year I ordered the official John Deere Utility Cart to go with my tractor. Assembly took about 2 hours. You wouldn’t believe how much fun it is to haul that firewood uphill with a tractor! I even bought myself a slope gauge. It’s another great tool added the homestead we fondly call Hayleyanne’s Hideaway.
I’ve also decided it’s time to stop struggling against aging. With any luck, it’s going to happen anyway. I just have to find a way to relax into it. As of last week, I received my first Shot-That-Blythe-Danner-Sells-On-TV. My bones need a little help and I’ll admit that I’ll do just about anything to stay active for as long as possible.
So there was that. Plus, the other day when arriving at the gym, there was a gaggle of young, 11-ish girls coming out the door. I held the door open for them just long enough to hear one girl remark, rather cheekily, “You’re old.”
Ah, young one, you’ve no idea with whom you’re dealing. But, mindful of unleashing a torrent of retaliatory snark lying dormant in the scar tissue of junior high school on Long Island, I decided a quick, derogatory snort was all that was required. After all, parents and staff were in the vicinity.
Later, as I pumped iron, noticing those body parts no longer as tight as they used to be and my pink-tinted, “arctic blonde” hair I decided, Well, yeah – of course I’m aging, and I may have to start taking things down a peg or two – but I’m still having a blast and I get lots of discounts on stuff!
It’s time to make this mellowing stage my ally and have some fun with it. A lawn cart definitely helps. And meanwhile, thank you, budding young snot-piggy from the gym, for pushing me through that final layer of denial.
Don’t get me wrong - I love my wood-gathering chores, as I get to spend more time out on the property cleaning up our forest and stock-piling wood for the winter. I can still swing a pretty mean chain saw and mauling ax. It was the uphill pushing of wheelbarrows full of wood that was taking its toll on the both of us, actually.
So this year I ordered the official John Deere Utility Cart to go with my tractor. Assembly took about 2 hours. You wouldn’t believe how much fun it is to haul that firewood uphill with a tractor! I even bought myself a slope gauge. It’s another great tool added the homestead we fondly call Hayleyanne’s Hideaway.
I’ve also decided it’s time to stop struggling against aging. With any luck, it’s going to happen anyway. I just have to find a way to relax into it. As of last week, I received my first Shot-That-Blythe-Danner-Sells-On-TV. My bones need a little help and I’ll admit that I’ll do just about anything to stay active for as long as possible.
So there was that. Plus, the other day when arriving at the gym, there was a gaggle of young, 11-ish girls coming out the door. I held the door open for them just long enough to hear one girl remark, rather cheekily, “You’re old.”
Ah, young one, you’ve no idea with whom you’re dealing. But, mindful of unleashing a torrent of retaliatory snark lying dormant in the scar tissue of junior high school on Long Island, I decided a quick, derogatory snort was all that was required. After all, parents and staff were in the vicinity.
Later, as I pumped iron, noticing those body parts no longer as tight as they used to be and my pink-tinted, “arctic blonde” hair I decided, Well, yeah – of course I’m aging, and I may have to start taking things down a peg or two – but I’m still having a blast and I get lots of discounts on stuff!
It’s time to make this mellowing stage my ally and have some fun with it. A lawn cart definitely helps. And meanwhile, thank you, budding young snot-piggy from the gym, for pushing me through that final layer of denial.
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