This is a Good Lawn! This is a Mother's Angel!

A little catch-up blog for a Friday.

Today, my dear, sweet, funny, and tender-hearted nephew left for college. I got to see him for a while yesterday, where we talked a lot about the movie "DiG!" and his recent dental experience. On Monday, he had seven, yes, count them, I know you won't, teeth pulled. Four wisdom teeth, a regular tooth at the back, and two "extras." He had the beginnings of an extra set. Like a shark.

My sister told me that on the way home from this excursion, the boy, who was still way under the influence of whatever put him under, kept telling her the same story over and over. That the surgeon's ceiling had a panel in it that looked like an aquarium and had all the characters from "Finding Nemo" in it. And this panel had the feature of, as you've got a needle in your arm, starting to move around, and finally Nemo waved his little fin at you. She had no idea if any of this was true, but he sure seemed to like telling her the story.

Taylor went back for a checkup later in the week, and confirmed that there was indeed a panel on the ceiling with the Nemo characters in it, but that it was sadly incapable of springing into action and letting Nemo wave his little fin. Shame. I liked the "stoned" version better.

Anyway, I'm not so much losing a nephew as I am gaining a college student. However, I am losing a Mowing Boy.

For those of you who may not have been around so long to know the storied history of the Poderosa, I have had a series of Mowing Boys. The first, the original and never to be replaced Mowing Boy, came to my house the Spring after I moved in. He'd mowed for the previous owner, and wanted to mow for me, too. And I jumped at the chance, jumped with such enthusiasm I think I scared the poor boy, but for over two years he was my dear, brave, valiant, and stalwart Mowing Boy. He mowed, unearthed snakes, destroyed bees' nests, walked into my house by mistake a couple of times, and saw me answer the door once wearing nothing but a towel. I'd like to think I prepared him for this thing called life.

After Mowing Boy graduated from high school, I inherited his father. Mowing Dad. Mowing Dad had a regular job, in a bank, but liked mowing yards and being outside, and I was keen to have him continue in his son's footsteps. He did a fine job with the yard, and was a nice fellow, but he just didn't have that "special something" his son had. And then he decided he wanted to slow down a bit and dropped a few yards, of which mine was one. No hard feelings, bye bye Mowing Dad.

And then I found my next Mowing Boy. Found him right under my nose, I did. It was my dear, sweet, funny, and tender-hearted nephew. He was a different kind of Mowing Boy. He was the kind of Mowing Boy who had an aunt for a client. He mowed just fine, but he didn't make regular rounds, didn't sweep or rake, and had the funny but not quite endearing trait of not bothering to pick things up out of the yard. I swear as God is my witness, if a jet engine part fell from the sky and into my yard, he'd run the lawn mower right over it rather than to kick it out of the yard. I've found shredded paper bags, shredded paper cups, shredded aluminum cans, and shredded who knows what else in the yard after his visits. I have to sweep the grass off my driveway and front walk after he's been there. But damn if he's not the cutest Mowing Boy I've ever had, and I couldn't help but go all warm and fuzzy sitting in the house and hearing him outside, plugged into his iPod, singing away.

And now he's off to go live his life. He found two friends of his to take over his yards, but I declined. I found a new Mowing Boy for the future.

Me!

Yes, I'm about to enter the oh-so exciting world of lawn care. I've always loved those little, as I call them, "pbbbbbbt mowers," but they're actually called reel cut mowers, and I started reading up on them. Made better now than in the old days and better for the lawn. I told my dad my plans, and got the same answer I get from him anytime I let him in on a plan of mine. "You can't do that!" Ever the encourager, my good old dad. Sometimes I listen and sometimes I don't, and this time I didn't. I decided to be my own Mowing Boy, and that was that.

So after doing a little pricing and research, I went this week and bought a reel cut mower. It was fairly inexpensive and easy to put together. It has a bagger, but I didn't attach it during the put-together Wednesday, simply because it was getting late and I wanted to try it out. I hauled it outside, and gave the yard a mow. It was easy, only took 45 minutes, and if I may say so myself, didn't look half bad.

Next time I'm hooking the bagger on and letting the good times roll. And in defense of the nephew, by the time I was on my last couple of rows, I think I would have mowed over a jet engine part as well.

So Mowing Boy is gone. Long Live Mowing Girl!

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Not much to report. Just Friday Chilling.
* By the by, the nephew's an Obama man.