It's a never ending adventure... me and the yard. I can remember a day when I said, "Oh, I'll never cut the grass... that's man's work." I have since then perfected the use of the lawn mower, if I do say so myself. With Scott's increasingly busy schedule at work and most of our free time spent at the ball park, I decided today to get out the weed eater and just give it a try.
I discovered, in my feeble attempt, that the weed eater is indeed man's work. I thought the cutting of the grass was man's work before, but now I can say that it's the duty of edging that most definitely belongs to a man.
First, I'll say that my husband is left handed and I am right. So I can't really learn by observation... he does everything the opposite from me. And he had told me that if I wanted to learn, I'd just have to get out there and play around with it to figure it out and get the feel of it. So that's exactly what I did today. My first impression of the weed eater is that it felt backwards. I don't know if you can position the head a different way according to which hand you prefer, but it definitely felt like it didn't suit me. And there was the sheer heaviness of it and tyring to keep it positioned right to get an edge on the grass.
I'll be real honest (as anyone who reads this on a regular basis will know I love to be) - I said more curse words today in a 40 minute time period than I've said in the past year. And the longest slur of them came when the darn string came completely out of the head of the weed eater.
I sat down on the grass to try to figure out how to get it back in. And about the time I had made up my mind that this was a sign to just stop for the day, the UPS man came driving up. No big deal to some, but I happen to know our UPS man personally ~ his son plays baseball with my son. And today, seeing me sitting in the grass with a weed eater prompted him to stop and get a chuckle at my expense. It's always nice to know that my yard work is as entertaining as my rows in my grass are straight.
I'd like to say that I will never try the weed eater again. That I'll leave it to the man of the house. That I'll just stick to the mowing. But the truth is that I'll be dadgummed if that weed eater will get the better of me. I will figure that thing out. I will try again. That is as soon as Scott gets the string back in it and the soreness in my arms that I know will set in tomorrow goes away. But I will master the weed eater, sooner or later.