The Raleigh-er

I had Saturday lined up. I was going to sleep late, because I can then I was going to do the laundry because I need to and then I was going to mow the lawn because I should. It was time.

Paper read, laundry started. I went to the shed to get the gas can, it would need to be filed before I could mow the yard. After having figured out how to lock the screen door, I left Dogger shut in the entry way and went to get the gas can.

It was full.

I could mow the yard now. I wasn’t ready to mow the yard now. The plan was going to be walking down the street to buy gas then I was going to find my mowing-the-lawn shorts then I was going to mow, I haven’t found my shorts yet! I mean, I have a pair of shorts, but I didn’t want to wear them, I wanted to wear my other shorts. From last summer. Mowing now was blowing my plan.

I prepared to mow the yard in sweat pants.

First I put gas in the mower.

Then I forced the mower - the mower has issues, out to the front and tried to start it. It didn’t start. I then went to push the little button thingy on the side. There was gas leaking out of the button thingy on the side, there was also gas leaking from what appears to be a lawn mower air filter. It was running, really, flowing out of the air filter. My neighbor down the street is washing her car and a river of water is flowing in the gutter. The irony is not wasted.

I yank on the cord again. Nothing. When I press the button it makes a wet, squishy sound. More cord yanking more nothing. I push the soggy button again. Gas dribbles out, but does not flow. I see this as an improvement. And I try again. And . Again. And again. My shoulder hurts.

I give up. I go inside and read The New Yorker where I scan the cartoons and read a story about bored, wealthy Manhattanites who feel tragically unfulfilled by their hobbies. This unhappiness forces them to drink heavily at their children’s play dates. I hate them.

I am assuming they are unhappy because they live in a world bereft of over grown front yards and broken lawn mowers . They are unhappy because even with all their money and free time they do not have their own broken law mowers, or tragically over grown front yards that they need to mow but can not. I am of course projecting.