26 June 2006

The Lawn, spatial relationships, and me

The thing about mowing is that I get to see immediate results.  Especially if I let the weeds grow up to thigh-high safari style.  But more so than immediate results, I can employ my creativity.  It's my yard and I get to mow designs into it, if I so desire.  But it's even more than that.

See, I can be somewhat manic at times.  Yes, yes, I know you'd never expect such a state from me, but there ya have it.  It's true.  And when it comes to mowing the yard, you can really see how that mania manifests itself.

I live in a trailer, with a fenced-in yard, surrounded by open fields of hay.  A good couple hundred of open fields, which are only interrupted by an occassional pond and a few old tall strong trees, roll gently over small swells and dips.  Really, they are too slight to be called HILLS and VALLEYS.

The plan is to mow the fenced-in part.  Then, mow a few mower-widths along the outside of the fence, along the parameter.  Then mow a small parking area and path to drive to it, and around the mailbox and the garbage can area.

This plan is not always implimented.  For instance, the first summer I had the mower, I got a bit carried away.  See, I would be trying to even things up and just kept mowing more and more (sorta like when I "even up" my hair, before ya know it, I'm bald, like now).  This isn't really a huge problem, except for two things.

One is that my landlords raise hay.  They like to have the tall hay to bush-hog and bale, to make big rolls of hay to sell.  When I get carried away and mow several acres, well that means that there is less hay to bale and sell.  See?

The other is, well, I get things on my mind.  And I can obsess and ruminate, and then obsess some more.  It will bug me til I actually DO something about it.  Which is why I have to set limits, very clear boundaries on what I will and will not do.

It even applies to mowing the damn yard.  I'm ok in the fence.  But outside the fence, things begin to get dicey.  See, I have dogs, so I mow outside the fence to cut down on bugs, pests, and fleas, ticks, mosquitoes and the proximity of snakes.  And field mice.  And cute lil bunnies.

Earlier this year, I mowed the yard.  I've only mowed once, but it took two weeks.  But I sure was glad and proud when it was done.  I didn't mow the lower 40, which was a huge accomplishment for me, cuz I really, really, really wanted to.  The hay was gently swaying, beckoning to me, taunting me, and I so badly wanted to go cut it down to size.

But I didn't.  I bested the hay, and boy, am I proud of THAT.

Sometimes, I section off my yard with the mower initially.  Then I execute various methods of mowing.  Thing is, my grass is so thick and coarse and dense that the patterns don't really show up after the entire thing is done, which is good, cuz otherwise I'd be getting out there and trying to smooth everything over.  And smoothing over leads to evening up and that leads to bareness (like my bald head).

If I am feeling particularly John Nash, then I know not to even start with the lawn mowing.  Otherwise, I begin to see patterns where there really shouldn't be any, and signs and significance where there really is none.  But usually I catch that mode before it gets out of control.

But don't mess with my books.  They are arranged that way for a reason.  My beautiful mind was busy that day and I rearranged my entire library, which takes two rooms of my home.  I have bookshelves that are floor to ceiling, custom-made, red juniper/cedar.  I like them, I like my books, I like my books on them, arranged just so.

1 comment:


    A friend


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