It's a big yard, and someone's gotta mow it.

I do not mow my own yard. There are many reasons for this, with the two most prominent being severe allergies and the fact that not sweating, sneezing, and itching is worth more to me than what it costs to hire the job out. If the Two Lucys are still living together next year, I may buy a lawnmower. For now, however, it’s more than worth it to me to fork over the bucks to have someone else sweat in our yard.

Sadly, this year has been one unfortunate event after another on the lawn-mowing front. The first half of the season, I had a charming young man who was a senior in high school and then a graduate of high school who did a great job for a reasonable price. Then, he had senior trips and mission trips which, combined with a crazy (but appreciated!) rainy summer, got us a little bit off track. The lawn was often a bit unsightly, and the hedges needed trimming. Lucy#1 fretted over it, and asked me every day when Travis was coming to do the lawn.Then, sigh, exit Travis to college. Travis’s brother was supposed to step into the mowing shoes.

The rain kept coming and the grass kept growing, but Cole never showed up. I got the occasional pinch-hitter to mow the yard, but it just wasn’t working out, and Lucy#1 was very anxious about state of the yard.

Soooo, about a week ago, I called someone who had cut my yard before Travis came on the scene. I asked if he could cut the yard this week and then every two weeks until the grass quit growing for the winter. He said he could and would! Yahoooo! The Two Lucys were ecstatic.

Well, at first, the Two Lucys were ecstatic.

Then Lucy#1 began to drive Lucy#2 crazy (and, as they say, it is short trip) day by sad day that the lawn was not mowed.

Long story short, Darrell never showed up. I gave him until Friday, since he said he would get to it at some point during the week. Friday afternoon at 3:30, I called Darrell’s business, and left a voice mail saying I wanted to confirm that I was still on the list because it was 3:30 Friday afternoon and my yard had not been mowed, and I would like someone to please call me to confirm.

No call back, and no one came to mow the yard.

By the time we walked our dinner guests out to their car Saturday evening, the grass was so high that the neighbor’s dog was having a hard time finding her tennis ball when her owner threw it. In some places, the grass was mid-calf high on me, practically up to Lucy#1’s knees. Lucy #1 was very unhappy. Really, bitterly unhappy about the state of the yard. She threatened to get a lawnmower and mow it herself. The dog’s owner offered to cut the grass. I said I would call Darrell again on Monday, and then I would borrow a lawnmower and cut it myself.

When I came home from church on Sunday, someone was cutting the yard. Yay! Darrell’s partner, I guessed, because he was unfamiliar to me. I went over to shake his hand and say, “howdy.” Before I had time to find out his name, Lucy#1 came out of the house to tell the nice man that I am her daughter and to tell me that she told him he could mow the yard. His name is Curt.

It turns out, our next-door neighbor, Mark, told Curt that Lucy#1 is his aunt and needed her yard cut. Then Mark came over and told Lucy#1 what he had told Curt. Then Curt came over and Lucy#1 told him to mow the yard.

Then I came home and paid Curt.

I still don’t quite understand the exact story of how Curt ended up mowing our yard, except that Mark asked him to. At first Lucy#1 said Mark flagged Curt down, then she thought maybe Curt had cut Mark’s yard last week. Then she thought maybe Curt cut Mark’s yard today. Who knows? Who cares? The yard looks very, very nice. I have Curt’s business card. If I don’t hear back from Darrell (for whom I left another voicemail while Curt was finishing up the yard) on Monday, I’ll call Curt and see if he can put me on his regular route.

Oh, yeah, and Curt charged $10 less than anyone else who’s ever cut this yard. Yay, Lucy#1!!