It would seem that this spring's weather here in Nota Bene has been perfect for the growth of grass. The frenzied growth of grass. The out of control, out of the ordinary growth of tall, thick, luscious, impenetrable grass.

I came back from Ontario ten days ago to find our backyard had turned into an absolute jungle. So, last Thursday, it was with some relief that I finally got the chance to roll out our electric lawn mower and begin the task of bringing it back under control. Little did I know but the lawn had no intention of going down without a fight. The photograph below shows the lawn (with Marlee) in better, tamer times. Don't be fooled.

I decided to divide the task into smaller, bite-sized chunks since I knew every square foot of lawn would require several slow passes of the mower to get through the sometimes foot-tall grass. I worked slowly on the southern half of the backyard to start and everything seemed to be going fine. After about a half hour, a friend dropped by with her dog for a visit, giving me a chance to take a break and the mower a chance to cool down. So far so good.

After the dogs had a nice romp and the friend and her pooch had left, I fearlessly returned to the job, intent on finishing at least the southern half of the yard. All that was left was a particularly thick section of grass but I figured, with patience and perseverance, me and the old Yardworks 12-amp mower would get through. Less than five minutes later, however, I was standing over the mower, watching smoke pour out of its on/off switch box, listening to an ominous electrical crackling from within it. The lawn, it would seem, had gotten the better of the machine.

I'm no handy-person and, I'll be honest, I don't much like messing with electricity in any way, shape or form. I usually know my limits. But, in this case, I unplugged the machine, took apart the little box and found only a little bit of soot and a lot of very normal looking wiring. So I put it all back together, plugged it back in and very carefully switched it on. More smoke, more crackling, more reason to fear. I unplugged the mower, coiled up the extension cord and called it a day.

A week later, after a great deal of research and some consultation with those more knowledgeable than us, we finally bought a replacement for our dead soldier: a new Craftsman gas mower from Sears. It's got a Briggs & Stratton "Platinum Edition" engine, 190 cubic centimeters, delivering 9.0 foot-pounds of gross torque (whatever that means). If this thing doesn't have the power to tame our lawn, nothing will. It'll mulch, throw the cuttings into a rear (dust resistant) bag or simply fire them out the side of its body and into the world. I'm so excited to give it a try I can't sleep. That's why I'm sitting here writing this blog entry at 3:45 in the morning.

I have to get through a full day of work before I get the chance to gas it up and go. But I'm stoked. Look out grass; you've met your mulch!

Tags: Garden, Craftsman, Sears, Briggs & Stratton, Yardworks