Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Some Women Glisten; I Sweat

You know that saying, "Women don't sweat, they glisten?" Well, I'm here to tell you, I do not glisten when I'm outside in this humidity. My hair is wringing wet, and rivers of sweat run down my back and gather at my waistband. When I am overheated, my face turns bright red. There's no soft, rosy glow here; I'm full-on red-faced. Add a lawn mower to the picture, and it's not a pretty sight.

There's no kind of sweat like mowing-an-Illinois-lawn kind of sweat. Lordy, I have never been to an equatorial rainforest, but I'm thinking I've come close to duplicating the experience in my backyard while pushing a lawn mower. My headband gets soaked, my shirt gets soaked, and my face gets a mottled red and pink when I finally finish mowing the lawn. 

Chicagoland has had a lot of rain, which means the grass has grown steadily since last week, but because of the precipitation, I hadn't been able to get to the yard work until this morning. The grass was so tall it took longer than usual to get the job done because the blades were bogging down with the heavy weight of the grass, and the engine kept sputtering to keep the blades spinning, and frequently it just conked out.

At the moment, I'm sipping an ice-cold Diet Pepsi in our office with an oscillating fan at my back. The can of soda has beads of condensation collecting on the outside, and contains pure refreshment for me inside. These little pleasures are absolutely delightful when contrasted with how I felt outside. I'm trying to dry off a little before jump in the tub to wash all of the dirt and tiny pieces of grass off my legs.

I can see our backyard from the window, and there is so much grass piled up out there, it looks like a hayfield just waiting to be baled. Any takers? It's not alfalfa or barley, but maybe someone has a horse who'd like to feast on some sweet Kentucky blue grass. Thank goodness we don't have a bagger on the lawn mower; I would have had to empty that thing WAY too many times. 

Once I got over my fear of losing toes or putting my eye out with flying debris, I found I actually enjoy cutting the grass. I like watching my progress, and I'm one of those people who likes cutting it on a diagonal. I even alternate which way the diagonal goes each week. Yeah, I'm one of those. I like the smell of freshly cut grass. And I REALLY enjoy a cold drink ,and sitting in front of the fan after I get the job done.

Sweating is really the only thing I hate about mowing. Too bad grass mostly grows in the summer. As this season inches its way toward autumn, it makes me realize that my grass-cutting days are numbered, and so are the hot and humid ones. HUZZAH! No more sweating for me for awhile!

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