My wife: The Grass Nazi

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My wife:  The (Lawn) Grass Nazi

Betty, under close scrutiny by JaJa, attacks yet another previously unmowed patch of

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grass.  Poor innocent lawn-compositional matrix.  You’ve seen enough of those movies, where the big bad battleship-spaceships swoop down out of the skies and just blast pschidt up.  Yeah, seein’ her go at the tall uncivilized grass, reminded me of that.

It was just a couple days ago, watching her with the BRAND NEW PUSH MOWER, I realized that she is a GRASS NAZI.  Doesn’t hate well-behaved, short-clipped, obedient, thick carpet of the green stuff — but the unruly and out-of-place and rampant living outdoor carpet? — whip it into shape!

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This epiphany may have originated talking with an acquaintance about a month ago.  David Ludlam, who is the executive representative of the local Oil & Gas Association (COGA) and I were attending the regional industry forum.  He probably enjoys the occasional conversation NOT about the state of the O&G industry.  (It’s grim, by the way.)   I knew his dad a while back (worked for him, even!) so I asked about his parents.

“Dad’s been retired a while now, and he spends most his time riding about the property on his tractor,” Dave said.  A spark (or if my mental is incapable of any sort of real ignition, then maybe the thought just started to smolder) lit up in my head, and I realized that Betty enjoys the same thing.  ‘Cept she doesn’t have an actual tractor, so the riding mower has to do.

I responded to David’s statement — that my wife had the same … impulse? fixation? hobby? in retirement as did his dad.  And I KNEW then that Betty would really like a tractor.  Maybe for the next anniversary, or something.

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The riding mower (above) has been her mainstay principal means of attack and defense for many years.  The anti-disobedient-grass instrument of punishment and subjugation.  Besides, she (claims) she could never start my borderline-antique gas-powered push mower,

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pixurd above, which is quirky and peculiar and particular.  (Sigh).  It was inevitable that a Nazi of any sort would want to acquire more weapons of subjugation.

Not even that extraterrestrial menace, the Raffiberp Ibbificators, in their resplendent Space Dome, the GONADAL IMPULSE, could have randomized an anywhere-near-equivalent potential-reality-probability-generating-the-likelihood-of-intelligent-life-existing-anywhere-on-any-planet quotient for our dear TERRA, than to bet against my ingrained perception of how things might turn out to be.

Yes, dear reader, as the epitaph regrettably should have said, IT (whatever “it” is) probably won’t get any weirder than this.  I hadn’t thought about grass-Nazi-ism but now that it was so obvious, YES, she would gladly incorporate yet another weapon of mass lawn-grass subjugation into the arsenal.

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Another former-refuge of grass wildness subjugated, then further on down to the former horse-pasture ~

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Yup, thumbzzup, I like this one!

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We had just barely brought THE BOX home with the new mower inside when THE YARD DINOSAURS, ever-vigilant and on-the-prowl for Things New, had to check it out.

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We assembled the MOE-SHEEN together (I had eaten a, uh, cannabis ingestible a couple hours earlier, and was having more trubbull than yoozYooUhl follering dye-erexions).  Once assembled (I hoped it was ‘assembled’!)  I figured, and knew, that she had to have the “first crack” at operating.  Though she said she’d merely just see how it started up and go for a short ‘test spin’ — I knew better.  Those grass Nazis, ya’ know …

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I could hardly believe it.  She pulled on the starter cord once, and BRRRRR!RRRR it started up and off she went a-chewin’ thru’ the tall stuff.  Stuff I would have had misgivings attacking with the “old” MO-SHEEN.  And yes, it was NOT a short “test spin.”

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And then we went fishing.  Our pond (which we share with 6 neighbors) is just down from the house.

I was humming:  bite dey tiny heads off

& nibble dey tiny feet

except the fish we caught (Rosco is shown above with the MONSTER of the few fish we caught), well not only did they not have tiny feet to nibble, I couldn’t bring myself to bite dey tiny heads off, so we let them go.

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And another (small) sign that The End Times Are Upon Us is that I had (finally?) recently retired and — aren’t we supposed to be curtailing impulse spending in this, the Limited-Income Phase of Our Lives?  But when we were at the store to buy fencing for the Canine Concentration Camp (maybe more about that later), we walked by the lawn-mowers.  Just $200?  We better buy this too ….

28 thoughts on “My wife: The Grass Nazi”

  1. All I can say is: thank goodness Dutch back- and front yards are so small! My mum is quite keen on mowing, too. My pets are quite keen on the grass… so it’s a win-win situation. But if our lawn had been bigger, I am sure she’d be a true grass Nazi, as well.
    Nice pics, by the way! :’) I can imagine you following your wife around taking snapshots as she is working on her hobby, haha!

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  3. Looks like you and/or your wife are staying busy on the homestead, slaughtering grass and imprisoning canines, while showing occasional mercy to fish. Life is rough for the retired.

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    • betty often goes to “town festivals” and such, and bought the first dino from a vendor at Palisade’s recent “International Bee Festival”. we’ll probably go to the Fruita “mike the headless” and she usually acquires more stuff, usually “for the yard.”

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  5. So this is what you’re getting up to in retirement?! I’m looking at your wife’s new mower with envy – our grass is too rough to be called lawn and I reckon that machine would come in handy here. 😀

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    • the MOE-SHEEN impressed me ! my little (“antique”) mower couldn’t have done what was depicted in the post.
      on the other hand — NO! I did and do not want to be involved quite like we have with this in retirement. I still have to sleep more and start (1) setting up eBay/Craig’s List to sell stuff (2) give stuff away (3) throw stuff away (4) all the previous, resulting in freeing up storage space, etc.

      and also I planned (& WILL) get out and “explore” more — those canyons and plateaus and such you mentioned in the other post. and run/ride more.

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      • most people have “plans” — and I had none. zilch. well, practically — I had planned to sleep more (not much luck with that so far)…
        I talked with a friend last week (older ‘n me) and he asked howwitwuzz going and I said each day seems to last a week. he snorted, and said “just wait ’til you get to where I am, and each day lasts 30 minutes!”
        I don’t know about that, but it sounds scary ~

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    • our problem is a hilly yard of approx. 1 acre in size (maybe more). most can be reached with the “riding” machine, but it takes hand-to-hand combat to get the difficult-to-reach spots ~

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    • we-ee-ell … I guess. we’re (gee-jay CO) the “banana-belt” of the state, so it’s mild most the time in the winter, but summer can SUCK (not hot by death valley standards, but > 100 f high almost every day in July, most of August, etc.). wilt-city !

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