For me, mowing a lawn is truly plasuable. There is almost a zen-like aspect to it. I mean here you are interacting with nature and sort of separated from the world by something of a world of sound on a task that needs to be done.
Also, you can actually see that you accomplished something when you are finished-how many jobs can you say that about? There’s an honesty to it also. That I like too. There’s no if, ands or buts–you either did it or you didn’t. As I said I really like to mow my lawn (a large one) and my elderly neighbor’s (fairly large), but some of my friends are giving me a bad time about my fondness for mowing the lawn.
The other evening I went to a get-together and my friend introduced me as “the guy who actually enjoys mowing his lawn.”
I was a bit embarrassed like I had just grown an extra leg or something. To restate my question–Is it that stranage?
Nope, I feel the same way. I take care of my brother’s lawn, too. And let me tell you, that’s one big lawn. For some reason, I get some measure of enjoyment from spending 6+ hours on the tractor (a 15hp Kubota Diesel , not huge, but not anything you’ll find at Sears, either) every other weekend.
I hate mowing my lawn! That’s why Nguyen[sup]TM[/sup] has done it for me for the last two years. Before that, my teenage neighbor kid did it. Before that, my ex (aka ButtHead) did it.
I paint houses for a living…also “honest” work with immediate results, so I can see the attraction. I don’t know if it’s the noise (though I love my chain saw so perhaps not,) the fact that they’re hard to start, the smell, the thought that I’m maiming grass…I don’t know, but it’s a chore I hate.
hello, dopers. i’ve lurked here off and on for a while and now i’m posting. yay! anyway…
I spend ~8 hours a day mowing, 5-6 days a week (work at a golf course). Believe it or not, i still enjoy it. it’s just nice to look back and see a giant area of grass looking all well-groomed because of your effort.
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i’m a virgo…that may be why i like the orderly elmination of grass run amok…it’s a peaceful feeling, containing,yet not destroying,mother nature…helping her stay beautiful…hmmm,maybe i AM weird?
My father loved to mow the lawn, also, and like you he said it was the only time he could really think (he owned his own business, and it was always hectic) so he mowed every Saturday morning, and us kids never bothered him because we knew it was “his” time to himself. I don’t think its unusual. I thought most men were that way.
Not at all; I’ve always enjoyed mowing my lawn. I hated it when I was a kid, but now I find it quite pleasant. It’s sort of relaxing. You have time to think, and when you’re done, the lawn looks fabulous, and you feel good about it. And I don’t really like any other kind of yardwork.
I write, and I find mowing the lawn is a good time to think about things I am writing.
When I lived in Denver, lawn mowing was a chore. I had one of those elevated front yards that you often encounter with 1920s era houses in central Denver. Even with a six horsepower self-propelled Toro, it was still a pain.
I’m not looking to lawn mowing when I move into the new house in Orlando. 95 degrees with 90 percent humidity, and a lot that’s three times the size of the the Denver homestead. I think I’ll just drop the bucks and hire it out.
In August I move to five acres. About two acres of that is mowed. I told Mr Carina that if he buys a very fast red riding mower with racing stripes, I’ll probably really enjoy mowing!
Nahh. I love mowing my lawn. I’ve got a John Deere 185, and nearly 1.5 acres in lawn.
When I’m mowing:
I can think.
I will not be interrupted.
I can drink beer and drive, an otherwise poor combination of activities.
I know I will have accomplished something.
I get to admire my yard and the lovely valley where I live.
I used to hate it but now I love it. My SO broke his arm about 6 weeks ago so I’ve taken over mowing the lawn. I just did it last night as a matter of fact. We have a pretty large yard (compared to others in our neighborhood) and it takes me about an hour to do the whole thing. We have a push mower so there’s more physical exertion involved for me but I still like it. I like getting all sweaty and flushed and I like it when my toes turn green from the freshly cut grass (I wear sandals when I mow). I also like to come inside the house afterwards, drink about a gallon of water and strip down naked to cool off.
I don’t mind mowing - I do enjoy the feeling of accomplishment. But I’m in Florida and lately even the pre-dawn hours are sauna-like. Plus our lot is sloped and somewhat uneven - the morons who put in the sod were less than meticulous - so even with a self-propelled mower, it’s a chore and I’ve stepped in holes more than once. Still, I don’t hate it enough to hire it out.
I’m pleasantly surprised to find that other people use lawnmowing as a way to help them write. When I lived with my parents, I didn’t mind having to mow the lawn because for some inexplicable reason, it generated idea after idea, phrase after phrase.
My man likes mowing the lawn. I like to do the edges with edging shears.
He (Man’o’Tansu) goes to his mum and dad’s house nearly every Sunday morning to do yardwork, which will usually involve riding around on one of the two lawn tractors listening to music, and tending to his collection of trees (pines, firs, redwoods, hemlocks, Douglas firs, cypresses, swamp cypresses, cedars etc). I pootle about at home, browse the SDMB and do some reading.
I’ve had other people tell me this too. It can’t be because they’re worried I’ll run over my foot because there’s a bar I have to hold down in order for the motor to run. If I let go of the bar, the mower shuts off so what’s the worry for?
I’m worried that the turning blade will launch a piece of something (stick, rock, blade, mowing deck) out from underneath the deck and gash your toe. The deck will
protect the rest of your body, but there’s nothing (save maybe a little plastic skirt) that will keep that stuff from being kicked toward you horizontally at grass-top level. And that’s where your vulnerable little toes are.
I’ve seen it happen to my roommate. It wasn’t fun, but it coulda been a whole lot worse: It was just a deep cut.
I can understand the joy of mowing in sandals, but I just wanted you to think about it first.
Before that, my teenage neighbor kid did it. Before that, my ex (aka ButtHead) did it.