The Lawn

As I grew, I inherited the task of mowing my grandparent's lawn. The lawn itself was mostly flat, unlike my house, so it wasn't bad, only bigger. The only obstacles, other than the flower gardens and sidewalks around the house, were trees: the thick, stout oaks clustered in the front yard to the left of the house. A dogwood tree bloomed with porcelain white flowers in the spring beside the house, that quickly lost its pedals and resembled a normal tree by mid May.

In the summer, the backyard was in bloom, the garden

Further back in the yard, well behind the dogwood, sat the swing, and the poles and that held up the canopy, twelve in all--always a pain to mow around. Further back still, behind the swing, grew a pear tree, already well taller than the canopy it was reaching for but not quite touching. Across the yard, in front of the garden, a peach tree grew and spread its branches in the space it had between the vegetable and sidewalk around the back of the house.

Neither of the fruit trees gave much fruit, except for the occasional pear or peach that grew big enough to taste. The squirrels and bugs claimed all the others.

"Damn squirrels," Pop Pop would say looking out the kitchen window. He couldn't talk about the squirrels, bugs, or birds in the yard without a 'damn' in front of their name. Later on he told me that he'd have no problem taking out his .22, the one he used back when he hunted, and blowing away some of the rodents that ran through his yard--if it wasn't for the damn neighbors the would call the cops in a heartbeat.

"You know how people are these days," he'd say. "They're funny."

Mowing Pop Pop's lawn would always land me ten bucks, even when I said I wouldn't take it. After a while, it was an unspoken agreement that ten bucks was what the job was worth, if I wanted the money, it was mine for the taking. He always said that he'd rather pay me, then be charged three times that by some other guy off the street.