I finally broke down yesterday and celebrated the ceremonial first mowing of the dirt. It was quite the affair.
As fate would have it, there has been so much rain lately that the red-mushroom cloud that historically accompanies this feat simply couldn't get airborne.
I am determined to lay down weed killer this year. My theory is that if I manage to kill all -- or at least most -- of the weeds, I may get away with only mowing every three or four weeks. There is a brand-new crop of weeds that have never presented themselves before. The dandelions are feeling crowded.
I purchased all the materials I needed to get my mower operational for the season. Air filter: check; oil: check; spark plug: check; spark plug gap tool: check; I was ready to go. It started on the first pull. I nearly dislocated my shoulder patting myself on the back.
The same rain that tamped down the dust, also lingered in the weeds. My mower constantly clogged with cuttings and stalled. I cleaned out around the blade a couple of times, but eventually the mower just crapped out. I cleaned it out again, but it refused to start. Drat!
I parked it and switched to my weed whacker that has never needed a season-opening tune up. It cranked right up, and I trimmed all the areas that require that. Finishing the whacking, I tried the mower again, no go.
I wheeled the mower back into my little shed and knocked off for the day.
Before going to the gym today I removed the mower from the shed and gave the rope a pull. Bingo: it started.
I don't like running the mower on Sunday -- I'm not opposed to Sunday mowing for religious reasons; I try to respect my neighbors, though, who may have some religious objection -- so I put it back in the shed to be revisited on Monday. I do live on the buckle of the Bible belt, after all.
That is I'll mow on Monday if we can go without rain until the afternoon. I'm not dealing with the stalling thing again.
And the season begins….