Sunday, September 18, 2011
Morning Mowers Must be Mad
Although they have moved the time from 7:00 AM to 10:00, my neighbors still persist at mowing in the morning, and also at waking me up.
I can't very well complain about ten o'clock, but I still think that they're insane. And, as their property line is quite close to the southwest side of my house, I have a terrible lawnmower racket accompanying me as I go about my morning chores, at a time of day when I like things quiet.
Seriously, in what Universe is mowing the lawn a morning chore? All of my other neighbors, everyone else in the whole neighborhood in fact, would seem to agree with me: mowing the lawn is something you do in the afternoon.
In all my life, from the time I was a little kid, I've never known anyone who did it backwards. And now I live next door to the only two people in the world who are stupid enough not to Get It.
If nothing else, by the time I get done mowing the lawn I am always hot and sweaty and the first thing I want to do is head to the shower. And I certainly don't want to take that shower in the middle of the morning. I want to take it late enough in the day so that it lasts me through the next day!
It's not always possible, but morning is a time for QUIET. Morning is a time for contemplation, and gathering yourself to face the hazards of the day ahead. For me, it's a time to feed my cats, clean up the mess, and attempt to pull myself together (a large task all by itself. My job requires me to be and do all the things that do not come naturally to me: to be social, to be supportive, to be calm, to have all the answers, and somehow, someway, to understand what the hell people are babbling at me about. All of these things are things that cause me enormous levels of anxiety. Especially the social part. Unless I know someone and am familiar with their voice and speech patterns I never understand what people are saying to me the first time out. I'm lucky if I only have to ask them to repeat themselves once).
Morning mowing is just plain Unnatural! It goes against all the basic laws of the Universe, much like working-class Republicans. Come to think of it, my neighbors probably are working class Republicans. That would explain a lot.
[Aside on a different, but related, subject: I just opened the living room window, and here coming down the sidewalk is another Unfavorite Neighbor, Bull Dyke and Ding-a-Ling Dawg. She obviously has her own place around here somewhere, but she persists in putting a bell around her little Yappy Dog's neck and walking him back and forth in front of my house, encouraging him to poop on my lawn. Ding ding ding! Ding ding Ding! Lady -- put him on a run and let him ding and poop in YOUR yard, please!]