III. Finally.

We have had lawn mower trouble this year. Okay, I haven’t. Himself has had lawn mower problems. Himself has had plenty of lawn mower trouble this spring. One earlier visit to Missouri, all three riding mowers didn’tstart or gave him major trouble.

Himself prides himself on being able to coddle, cobble, coax and/or bribe a mower to run long after most people would have given up and junked the thing. It is a matter of pride with him – one that I do not understand but after 38 years I have (almost) come to accept it. However, on those occasions when he is absolutely infuriated with a machine and ranting and raving fire and brimstone, I beg him to go get a new one. I plead. I beat my chest and tear my hair – go, go! Go buy a new mower!

But then he tinkers and tickles and gets that damn mower going again and we both forget the awful frustration and the awful language and we let it go . . . again.

This time, we had good luck at Too. We came down Friday evening and Himself started my mower. Oh wait. He and I started my mower as it takes two – one to sit on the seat and turn the key and the other to apply a small hand tool somewhere inside the engine compartment -- but anyway it started and then his did too and we mowed all of Too that evening. Sigh; what a relief.

Saturday we got up and went to III. The lane has been so muddy what with all the rain but we got in and Himself got the mower started with relatively little trouble. My job was to take the 4-wheeler up the lane and pick up all the sticks and branches. I got a head start so I almost managed to keep ahead of the mower but of course I can’t pick up sticks while seated on the 4-wheeler so I was off more than I was on and at some point Himself caught and passed me. He went on and I cut and pruned and picked up branches and all was good. Then it happened. The mower threw a belt -- which it is want to do. A trip to the cabin for tools and equipment and Himself went to work putting wrong to right. I started back down the lane, continuing my clean up effort. I barely got worked all the way down the lane bending, picking up and throwing sticks when the call came on the walkie talkie. Bring the marine battery out of the cabin and the jumper cables. "Can do; over and out; roger!" (hey, I watched Sky King every Saturday morning when I was a kid!) I pull the 4-wheeler right up to the porch and “walk” the battery out the door and across the porch. One big “lift” and I have the battery up on the front rack of the mechanical mule.

(At this point, I am reminding myself that some people actually have to go to the gym and pay real money to build muscle. Not me tho! I have plenty of opportunity to build muscle in my “real” life.)

Up the hill with the 4-wheeler and Himself hooks up the battery cables. Finally with a few coaxing, creative words, the mower starts. Himself jumps on the beast and patting himself on the back is out there mowing again. I jump back on my steady steed, the 4-wheel Mule, and I am back down the hill to more brush cutting and trail clearing.

An hour goes by and Himself has mowed “the top” and here he comes down the Lane. I am still puttering around, working, when I notice the mower is acting up. It seems it is losing power. Himself stops, starts, stops again. Eventually I realize that Himself is now driving that mower down the hill in a beeline to the big ravine. Whoa! My mind takes in the series of events and I realize that, oh d_ _ _, I left the camera at Too and he is going to drive that thing over the edge into the ravine! I follow him but eventually the mower dies two feet from the edge. Himself is off the mower. He is pulling the (new) battery out, cussing and stomping. I think that he is about to push the mower over the edge so in an effort to lighten the mood, I stomp up and curse that stupid machine “You @#$*th^* *&^%e# machine, I spit out. That took Himself completely off guard because I never talk like that and he straightens up and laughs out loud. We both stand there and laugh about how he was going to literally run that mower over the edge and watch it crash to the bottom . . . then we turn and walk back to the cabin.