Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Lawnmower Woman

Today was a pretty good and productive day for me. I re-couped $345 on the stock market, did some dusting, finished up one of the piano songs I had been working on, took my recycling to the center, cleaned my tire rims, and put in a good 15 minutes of real work today at the office.

Today was not so good a day for my Mom, and her plight has caused what was going to be today's post to be pushed back until tomorrow or maybe Sunday. This morning Dad had to go to Atlanta and isn't getting back until later tonight. And this Friday they are driving on up to Quebec. So to help out a bit, Mom decided to cut the grass. Typically Dad does it, but if it were to rain tomorrow then they wouldn't be able to cut it and they're going to be gone for a week or so. Now about two years ago my parents admitted that they are old and bought a used riding mower. They both still use the push one from time to time but today was not one of those times.

This evening I called up Mom to tell her about what was going to be the subject of today's post, but didn't get an answer. So I caved in and called Dad. Dad is always the last resort because Mom wears the pants, not him. He was at the airport in Atlanta, and after a few minutes of the chit-chat I complained how I actually wanted Mom but she didn't pick up. And he said she may have been in the shower getting ready for the night. I figured this was plausible as she does like to get her PJs at very early hours of the day, and decided to treat Dad to telling him first about what was going to be the subject of today's post.

After getting off the phone with him, I figured it had been long enough and tried Mom again but still no answer. Then I got stubborn and decided that if she wasn't going to pick up then I wasn't going to keep calling her. She was just going to have to miss out on what I had to tell her. About an hour later Dad calls up saying Mom just hung up the phone on him. He said she did because he was laughing at her because she got thrown from the riding lawnmower into the electrical box. This would explain why she hadn't picked up, she wasn't in the shower, she was tangled in the electrical box.

But I was conflicted. I didn't want to call Mom because I was still upset she hadn't called me back, but at the same time I knew that by calling I could use this opportunity to console her and work my way into a bigger piece of her will. In the end I died a little bit inside and called her up.

She sounded a bit rough, and explained that as she was cutting the grass somehow she lost control of the mower and couldn't stop it. It then hit the electrical box and tossed her off the side and into the box as well (we have one of those big ones that serves 3 or 4 houses). She also told me that in the process she lost one of her shoes. Then after she picked herself up, she had to push that riding lawnmower back into the shed. And while she got pretty well banged up she was fine, but her legs were hurting.

I pointed out that she is going to be the definition of black and blue tomorrow. You would not believe how easily my Mom bruises. Tap her arm and it'll look like she has gangrene in an hour. To this she responded, "I know, and I just had my legs looking all good for Canada."

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