Looking Out for the Lawn

It is with some hesitancy I admit that at 71 years of age, I have never mowed a lawn.

Dad and the boys did it when I was a kid and no grass came with the patch when I moved out on my own.

Hubs, who hated cooking, said he would do the outside maintenance if I would cook, proving to be a pact that worked well for us.

He took great pride in mowing. He loved timing himself to see how quickly he could get it done.

This plan was never challenged until about a decade ago when he had an ankle surgery that included doctors orders of no weight for six weeks.

About the second week into this regiment, he...