...or Beauty Meets the Beast. Got back late-ish last evening from a weekend up in Sylvan Lake (again). Essentially, I spent 2 days working and napping, punctuated by walks and reading. The Saturday work was the easy bit: weeding my sister's veggie garden. Now it looks very orderly and you can see how beautifully the veggies are doing:
The prettiest part of the garden is at the front of the house, though: the flower beds, which are full of artistic inspiration this time of year:
Yesterday, however, I determined it was time. I had to face up to the fact that the lawn really did need mowing -- at least in the back, which is a vast expanse of undulating turf. I had to re-acquaint myself with The Beast.
This is my sis' gas-powered lawn mower which, last year, I couldn't start. This year I seem to have figured it out, and by the end of my first hour with it, I could even start it with a single pull -- due in large part to having to stop and start the process four times. I had to mow the lawn in sections due to its size, and to the fact that after 15-20 minutes of slogging up the slopes and over the hillocks with The Beast, I was watering the grass with my sweat, my pulse had soared to close to 200 bpm, and I was having trouble breathing. I don't know how my sis does it. Suffice to say, I left off after doing the back. The front and sides can wait till next weekend. Or till the neighbour gets disgusted and cuts 'em.
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