The Mixed Emotions of Being the Lawnmower Man

Mowing the lawn in the Georgia heat can be a real treat.  You either outsource it, get paralyzed into not doing it until your neighbors start whispering to each other, or grin and bear it.  I have a friend who embraces mowing and tells me he throws on a cowboy hat, blasts Johnny Cash into his I-pod, and smiles the whole time.

Me?  I grin and bear it with mixed emotions.  Immediately before mowing, the voice of an old finance friend of mine, John Berkeley, keeps repeating over and over in my head, "Housing's a terrible investment..."

Once the job is complete (and a cold one is cracked), I get this bizarre sense of Randian accomplishment.  As I look out into my backyard, through my dehydrated, dizzy, and sweat-filled eyes, I usually see something like this:

  

Comments

[Corey Carpenter]

Nice touch with the creek.