How Many Years Have I Been Pushing A Lawn Mower?

     The other day when I was mowing the lawn,  I got one of the deja vu moments, like I had been here before, and when I started thinking about it, it was true, I had been pushing a lawn mower around for just about all of my life.  

    It began the summer when I was ten years old.  I was big enough to start the lawn mower by pulling on the cord, and then once it was started, pushing heavy lawn mower around the bumpy yard.  Soon my enterprising parents got me my first official job:  Mowing the Oak Ridge Cemetery, the small local cemetery, just a house away from where we lived. 

    I can’s say I loved the job, because I didn’t.  It was a bummer just having to push our lawn mower along the side of the road over to the cemetery, while juggling the heavy, swaying, gas can in my hand. It was always a hassle yanking and pulling on the cord, trying to get the finicky gas engine to start.  Once it was started I spent an hour or so pushing the machine around all of the gravestones inside the cemetery, and then mowing the small area sloped area under the oak trees, between the cemetery and the road.

    Once the job was completed, my T-shirt was soaked in sweat and I was tired, but I then had to push the lawnmower while carrying the gas can, back to our house.  However, the hot and boring chore was quickly forgotten once I was given the three dollars for my labors.

    When summer ended, I remember going back to school starting the sixth grade.  Mr. Mohr, our young and vibrant teacher asked each of us how we had spent the summer vacation.  When I told him I had mowed a cemetery, he cleverly quipped, “Wow, you worked with a lot of people under you.”

    My family built a new house further up the road in what used to be a field,  While it was nice to have my own bedroom, I was somewhat dismayed when I discovered that what used to be a field, became our yard, and I was the one who had to mow it.  

    On those hot and humid summer afternoons, I found myself, circling our huge lawn pushing the lawnmower.  I hated it.  What made the job even worse was the fact that from our lawn, we could see kids swimming in the swimming pool of Clearcrest Country Club.  Life just didn’t seem fair, and I came to hate mowing the lawn.

    However, hating it like I did, I couldn’t seem to shake the job.  In high school and even later during part of my university years, I made spending money by mowing people’s lawns.  Of course, once we had moved to Canada and had our own place, every summer I find myself still pushing a lawn mower around.

    Below is a winter photo of Oak Ridge Cemetery, the site of my first mowing job.  Last time I heard, they had been paying someone $75 each time they mowed it.  That is sure a lot more than the three dollars I used to get.

You can see my paintings at:  davidmarchant2.ca