Mowing

Amazingly, I was able to mow the Back-40 Wednesday, July 23, 2008, with our dreaded zero-turn, of course, and despite the noisy blusterings of the almighty Bluster-King, no flowers were mowed, no trees scraped, and I kept it out of the ditch.
This is my third season with it, and despite my stroke I’ve gotten pretty proficient with it. I related to Linda a stroke can apparently be countered by the fact you were only using 10 percent of your brain in the first place, so what’s left can learn as much as you did before.
We have had downpours all week. Mowing the Back-40 was almost a week late.
The zero-turn stalled at least six times; although when it stalls is when the grass accumulated inside the deck falls. I’m cutting down to three inches (the suggested cutting-height) from a foot, and it does it with no trouble.
It’s just that a lot more grass accumulates inside the deck.
I also want to modify the chute, so it doesn’t accumulate. That way it would spray the stuff out like our Greenie.
My MyCast weather-radar indicated a window.
So immediately after breakfast I set about mowing.
The sky darkened to the west, but apparently that cell skirted north.
Then the sky cleared, so I mowed our paths with the Greenie.
The Greenie is only 38-inch cut; path-width. The zero-turn at 48 is too wide.
Shortly after putting everything away the skies opened.
The night before the skies opened too, a giant hail-storm at 2:30 a.m.

Punctured tomato. (Photo by the so-called “old guy” with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100 with flash.)

It’s getting like south Floridy around here any more.
The day starts clear but humid. Clouds fire up, turn into thunderstorms, then dump in the afternoon.
As the sun sets, storms wither.
Weather-radar only shows what’s currently happening. Clouds may start raining — and no matter what the Bluster-Boy claims, weather-radar can’t predict that; only display the after.
If a squall-line is marching toward me, there’s a pretty good chance I’ll get rained on by that squall-line.
And my weather-radar will show that coming.
But it can’t predict clouds suddenly opening.
2:30 a.m. suggests a squall-line. Individual cells die out after the sun sets.
The hail was pretty large, and made a mess of our garden.
Punctured tomatoes (see pik).

The “Back-40” is a large open field behind our house. We didn’t mow it at first, but it’s become like grass since we did.

Our “zero-turn” is our 48-inch Husqvarna riding-mower; “zero-turn” because it’s a special design with separate drives to each drive-wheel, so it can be spun on a dime. “Zero-turns” are becoming the norm, because they cut mowing time in half compared to a lawn-tractor, which has to be set up for each mowing-pass.

The “almighty Bluster-King” is my all-knowing, blowhard brother-in-Boston, the macho ad-hominem king, who noisily badmouths everything I do or say. He loudly insists I am stupidly incapable of mastering a zero-turn lawnmower, which is hogwash.

I had a stroke October 26, 1993.

“Linda” is my wife of 40+ years.

Our “Greenie” is our small John Deere riding mower; 38 inch cut. “Greenie” because it’s green.

My weather-radar site on this computer is “MyCast.”

RE: “‘Old guy’ with the dreaded and utterly reprehensible Nikon D100.......” —My macho, blowhard brother-from-Boston, who is 13 years younger than me, calls me “the old guy” as a put-down (I also am the oldest). I also am loudly excoriated by all my siblings for preferring a professional camera (like the Nikon D100) instead of a point-and-shoot. This is because I long ago sold photos to nationally published magazines.

RE: “Weather-radar only shows what’s currently happening......” —My all-knowing, blowhard brother-in-Boston loudly insists his weather-radar is better than mine, and can predict the future.