I’m not sure what it is about me and mowers but last night the ornery bugger decided it didn’t want to mow the front yard.  I always start by trimming and then I mow in back before moving to the front.   I always shut the mower off when I push it across the driveway and it almost always starts again on the first pull, that is, until last night.  I pondered two possible reasons as to why I wasn’t mowing shortly after I pulled the rope but I wasn’t sure which one to address first.  Could I have filled it with the wrong gas?  We have 4 gas cans sitting in the shed.  None of them are marked which would make life easier for the woman that develops a bit of “gas can” amnesia over the winter but I was pretty sure it was the third largest of the four and that was the one I used.  It looked sort of green maybe but not really and I remember Don telling me the mixed gas would appear green so if it looked green when I was pouring it into the mower, it was the wrong one.  You can call me a pessimist but determining the color of the gas as it’s going into the mower isn’t, in my opinion, the best time to find out what color it is.   Maybe that was it but before bringing Don into the picture,  I retrieved an assortment of screwdrivers and decided I was going to check out the air filter.  I had just mowed through a drift of cotton from the cottonwood trees nearby and that cotton had no problems finding it’s way into all of my air sucking filters!

I removed three screws and identified the motor, the gas tank and the muffler but nothing that looked like a filter holder.  I put the screws back in and hoped the mower was going to think I had performed a thorough tune-up which would mean it would start and I could finish mowing.  I hadn’t actually accomplished anything but the mower didn’t need to know that.

With great hope and anticipation I pulled the rope.  Nothing happened.  I decided to remove the gas thinking maybe the gas I poured in it did have a bit of a greenish hue to it so I sent Don a text and about the same time Don texted me.

Don is one of the most perceptive men I have ever known.  I’ll recap our text exchange which prompted his phone call telling me to calm down.

From me at 7:11 pm:  “You have 4 gas cans.  Which one is for the mower?”  From him at 7:11 pm:  “Think I got some sun!”  along with a picture of a sunburn and his smiling face.  (This was one of his perceptive “distract her anger” maneuvers which worked for a second.)  My response at 7:12 pm was, “Yes, you did!”  The next text was sent at 7:13 pm.  It said, “I’m half done with the dam lawn and I have 4 gas cans staring at me.”

He could see I was a bit perturbed by the tone of my third message so rather than continuing this conversation in word form he called me.  The fact that he told me to calm down actually went over better than it usually does which surprised both of us.  I calmed down and reviewed all of the possibilities with him and about that time Sam appeared with an ice cold beer.  I thought about pouring it in the gas tank because the only other gas for the mower was in a 5 gallon can and I’m too big of a wuss to hang onto the heavy thing while tipping it and getting it lined up with the opening on the gas tank.  Don has told me before to look as pathetic as possible if someone is willing to help me so I snapped myself into pathetic mode and Sam filled the tank and when the rope was pulled….zoom….the motor took right off!  He went back to his mowing and I got a pass and a half done and the mower died again.  I tried numerous times to revive it but it just wouldn’t budge so Sam said, “I’ll mow your front yard when I finish with mine if you want to do the trimming in my yard.”  I was all over that idea as I have become really good friends with the rechargeable battery operated trimmer Don bought for me last fall.  The trimmer he had used for years died so I trimmed around the fence and trees with a scissors last summer.  He never actually saw me do this but I’m sort of thinking it’s what prompted the new trimmer purchase.  I have always said I’m a very low maintenance kind of girl and hacking off grass with a scissors is pretty good proof of that, don’t you think?

Once the trimming and mowing was done in both yards Sam chatted for a bit and then headed home and I plopped down into my comfy rattan chair in the back yard and became one with the “not so cold anymore” beer I had slipped into my pocket earlier and I must say, it tasted pretty darn good!

I forgot to mention Sam removed the air filter before filling the mower with gas when I was in pathetic mode and it was full of dirt and a big wad of cotton but it was no where near the places I was looking earlier!

Don’s final determination:  Although the air filter may have been plugged, he maintains the mower had too much of the right gas from the right gas can due to the fact that his woman may or may not have pushed the primer button more than one too many times and it was, indeed, f-l-o-o-d-e-d!!!!

Bev’s final determination:  There is no way Don will ever be able to prove his woman pushed the primer button on the mower as many times as he thinks she did no matter how perceptive he is. (Boy am I glad that mower can’t talk!)