So last night as I was sitting in my office contemplating how I could rearrange it, and wondering if I even wanted to tackle the task, because it means emptying out filing cabinets and an overfull closet, I heard a familiar noise outside…and my first thought was….Oh no, you don’t!!! Neighbour Carl. And then I remembered, I don’t live next to Neighbour Carl anymore and it made me sad.
Now here’s the thing, year one we put in a fence and I picked weeds, year two we got grass in but for most of the summer I wasn’t allowed to even walk on it, so it wasn’t until late summer that I even got to cut it. I’ve had 2 years to observe the neighbourhood to decide if there is a worthy grass cutting competition opponent, or if I even want to compete anymore. It’s just not going to be the same without Neighbour Carl….here is what I observed: Mr. Parr takes lawn maintenance very serious and he also has 2 pint sized helpers that come with their own pint sized lawn mowers and wheel barrows. The house on the other side has no back lawn so they’re out. Mr & Mrs Smith, if that is their real name, are off on some grand adventure so not contending this year. I really thought Mr Blue might be the one, but it turns out that it isn’t him that is the carer of the yard, it’s Mrs. Blue. Apparently, he gets the sneezes around grass. Now you might think a women competition would be cool, and I agree but the thing is Mrs. Blue’s job is in the home, and that is way more of an advantage than I want to give. And lastly the house on the corner, Mr. Ground Control and Mrs Carpenter, I had hopes for them, we’re similar ages and stuff, but them I found out they’re hired the oldest Blues Brother for the summer….
After watching Mr. Parr for a while I nonchalantly went outside. I walked to the shed and dug around until I found a couple of rakes, and I surmised that it’s going to take more than just me to get to the back of the shed where my lawnmower is. There are 8 winter tires, a large tote full of tools, as well as 2 milk crates and a couple of tool pouches (all The Boy’s), 2 sets of golfing clubs, misc gardening ornaments and a pair of size 13 rubber boots all stacked in my way. I guess even if I want to start the competition tonight, it is not going to happen. I hung around the side of the house until Mr. Parr appeared and we had a chit-chat. I call it doing recognizance. He told me he wasn’t cutting his lawn he was dethatching. He had borrowed one from a buddy. Ha! I have my very own, somewhere in the shed. I think. I hope. Good to know. And then he sees my rakes in hand and says, “You’re welcome to borrow it if you want.” Ahhh Jeepers, he’s being so nice. Now I worry if I can be a ruthless competitor. I politely decline.
I don’t know what to do. It seems quite obvious that if I want to compete it will have to be against Mr. Parr. But is it fair for me, a mere mortal to compete against a super hero? What if he loses? Will he be humiliated? Or worse yet, lose his super hero status? I don’t know if I want that burden on my shoulders….I don’t need to make a decision right away, since it snowed off and on all morning, so I will take my time on making my decision….stay tuned….