In order to keep pace with the green invasion, Husband and I set out on our personal lawn-mowing equipment: the Cub Cadet (me), and the Toro Zero Turn (Husband). He sits proudly ensconced between his steering levers as a king on a throne holding two scepters, while I sally forth on the "regular guy" Cub Cadet. I notice a "sound" coming from my mower deck and get taken to task for mowing too close and bending something. After his stern lecture, in which he belittles my competency and also defames my noble vehicle as a piece of "*#@!," we resume our work.
After an interval, I notice Husband is on foot beckoning me over and preparing for censure, I conclude I've done something else wrong. This time, however, he is unusually smiling and pleasant as he asks me to pull him out of the deep ditch that outlines our side of Waverly Lane. On arriving it was obvious Husband had tried gambling another dangerous edge and lost.
An Unusually Pleasant Husband
Being Rescued While Wearing
His Biblical Slogan Tee Shirt
We hooked the Cub Cadet to the Zero Turn, in spite of their previous animosities (see wildonwaverlylane.blogspot.com/2011/10/dueling-in-sun.html) and go on with our mowing.
After the lawn is trimmed and beautiful, there was gratitude, and conciliation, and a little tear or two from the wind heron, who was overcome by humidity.
"Thanks for Pulling Me Out and You're Not a Piece of #@*!"
Cub Cadet: "You're OK, if no one else is available."
(Sniff, blubber) "If Only a Group Hug Were Possible!"