Warning! Venting ahead!
What's wrong with mowing the lawn?! I just don't get it. No, not true, I get it. I was out this morning, doing some gardening. Real innocent gardening, in fantastic early summer weather. All was good. I even put a hat on, got my bottle of water and had prepared the racing track to the loo. So, all was perfect. I went into our shed and saw the mower. It's one of those you have to push. And this was awfully attractive. I saw it, I wanted it. ... And the lawn needed to be cut. Perfect. So, I got it out and started it without problems and cut the lawn. I was content. NO, I was happy. I do not know why, but I love that. Maybe because it is the loudest machine that I am allowed to use. Maybe there is some streak in me that wants to show that women can do work with machines other than Hank and the dishwasher? I have no idea, but I love mowing and I do not always get the chance.
We are not in the mountains, there are no hills and ups and downs in our garden. So, this was not really hard work. Getting up in the morning after a short night is harder to do than mowing, I think. So, I pushed this red monster of noise and was happy, and suddenly hubby was behind me, looking at me disapprovingly, stopping me, switching the poor mower off. I was really surprised. I had no idea that he'd be here this morning, and was definitely not prepared for being scolded by him.
Basically, it was the preggo+physical strain=forbidden scolding. I got that a few times in the past, e.g. when I wanted to carry filled shopping bags into the house. Imagine, all pregnant singles would starve, if this really was such a hard work. Sorry. I apologize for being too ironic. I tried to 'discuss' things in this style, because the whole situation had really hit me by surprise. My point of view is that I can mow the lawn. It is not difficult. Hubby says this is not what I am allowed to. I think he was mad at me, because you have to start our mower with this cord that you have to pull. So this could be hard work. But it wasn't!
Well, my reaction was admittedly inappropriate. I was really pouting and backtalking and felt as if a favourite toy was taken away. And I thought this was unfair. Maybe I still do, a little bit.
We have come that far with baby. Hubby does not want to see me doing a.n.y.t.h.i.n.g. which could pose any risk to baby. He is right. And I did not take his fears into account. Maybe it looked like hard work, when I pushed the mower? All I know is that the machine was what I wanted to use this morning.
Did I think? Well, no. Hubby reminded me that we had talked more than once about these things and he does not want me to carry, push, drag or use anything heavy and especially not, if it could be a dangerous machine in itself (e.g. chainsaw + old tree + me). He is right, and this restriction doesn't exist without reason. Nevertheless, I am pretty frustrated at the moment. I am angry because I finally understood that, at least, I should have asked first. The thought never turned up. I am not joking when I say I had no thought about any safety regulation and rule that we follow here.
I am also frustrated because I still feel as if something was taken away which I can handle. What vexes me most about it, is that at the same time, I can see clearly why hubby stopped me. He is definitely the last one who wants me to suffer and he is no spoilsport. He did it for baby and for me.
Now I am really absolutely frustrated. Hubby had sent me in and stopped my gardening for the day. I am grounded for today. Not, because I have used the mower. He asked me, how I came up with that idea, in the first place. Last night we had talked about today's schedule and I wanted to be out in the garden. No talk about the mower then. That brilliant idea of mine only came when I saw the little red cutie in the shed. No, the real reason why I am grounded is my backtalk. And it is not because I tried to stand my ground, after all I thought I did something good. It was because I did not listen to what hubby was about and started backtalking as my way of defending, because the situation was out of hand for me. Hubby did not accuse me of anything, so there was no reason to defend, apart from my ego. :-(
Well, suddenly I have plenty of time inside, while outside is the best weather this week. Hubby will be back again in about two hours and I'll make amends. By now, after calming down and venting here, I feel like a complete blockhead. You know, if I could get a spanking, this would be solved and peace would return immediately. Stress relief. Another possibility would of course be, to hold my thoughts together, but currently ....
We are going to discuss this again and this time I'll be more reasonable. And I'll apologize from the heart, because the only one who escalated everything was I and hubby has to know that I never wanted to cause him trouble, although I did and feel very sorry now for my childish reactions.
God and St. Francis Discussing Lawns
GOD: St. Francis, you know all about gardens and nature. What in the world is going on down there in the USA? What happened to the dandelions, violets, thistle and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect, no-maintenance garden plan. Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honeybees and flocks of songbirds.I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But all I see are these green rectangles.
ST. FRANCIS: It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. The Suburbanites. They started calling your flowers weeds and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
GOD: Grass? But it's so boring. It's not colorful. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees, only grubs and sod worms. It's temperamental with temperatures. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there?
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently so, Lord. They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn.
GOD: The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy.
ST. FRANCIS: Apparently not, Lord. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it, sometimes twice a week.
GOD: They cut it? Do they then bale it like hay?
ST. FRANCIS: Not exactly Lord. Most of them rake it up and put it in bags.
GOD: They bag it? Why? Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it?
ST. FRANCIS: No, sir -- just the opposite. They pay to throw it away.
GOD: Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away?
ST. FRANCIS: Yes, sir.
GOD: These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work.
ST. FRANCIS: You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
GOD: What nonsense. At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stoke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. Plus, as they rot, the leaves form compost to enhance the soil. It's a natural circle of life.
ST. FRANCIS: You'd better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away.
GOD: No. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter and to keep the soil moist and loose?
♪
GOD: And where do they get this mulch?
ST. FRANCIS: They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch.
GOD: Enough! I don't want to think about this anymore. St. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight?
ST. CATHERINE: Dumb and Dumber, Lord. It's a real stupid movie about ...
GOD: Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St. Francis
(source: http://www.guy-sports.com/humor/jokes/jokes_lawn.htm)