Since I haven't started spraying the lawn for beauty control I have some weeds that are growing tall, even though the bermuda is not out, so I decided to mow. This would be my 2nd mowing this season. After getting gas and gassing the mower I tried to start it and on the 2nd pull the winding thingie got stuck and the pull cord was left dangling and lifeless. After a few minutes of pushing through the little top vent things to make the whirry part turn to coil up the cord I finally decided to remove the top of that whirry, turning thing. No problem, I have good tools.
The 5/16 socket was too small, the 7/16 socket was too big, and after digging around a little I finally found a 3/8. It was just a tad too small. Hmmm. I know I've used these before, but not since I had the mower worked on 2 years ago. I bet the guy replaced those things. Lucky for me that some time ago I had taken a little case of mm sockets from my mom's garage, and the 10 mm fit perfectly. So I got the top off, wiggled and jiggled it, blew dust off, wiped around the top of the lawn mower where the turning crank is and blew off dust, practiced pulling the cord and letting it glide back into coiled position, assembled the top and started the mower. That was easy. I would say 95% of the jobs like that I try to do turn out more difficult.
From the time I decided to mow until I actually began mowing the weather was fine. Nippy and windy, overcast, but a great evening to mow. As I made my first pass on the grass it began to shower. It showered lightly during the entire front yard and just as I was ready to put the mower away it stopped so I got to mow the back, too. I hate mowing in the rain and usually won't do it, but after all my prep work I wanted to get it done. Besides, I was doing anything to put off the taxes as long as possible. Including this entry!
Part of the prep work was taking a picture of the frog splat on the sidewalk behind our garage. We've lived here 3 1/2 years and not one of us has ever talked about it, but I know we've all seen it. It is just too horrible to think of a little frog hopping into wet concrete, struggling to get out and finally succumbing.
In preparation for the real turtle compound I intend to build, last fall I moved a little spontaneous maple tree from the side of our house, where the turtles now live, to an area in the future compound. This evening I inspected it closely and found this going on all over the place:
I still have Rehab in the house because the last time I brought her in because of the temperature I noticed a fresh sore spot on her rump from her molestation. It seems she scabbed over and her tough skin started growing funny there and it must have somehow been pulled on something. I managed to pinch it off and am now treating her for a few days with that special solution. So here she is today:
You can see how her tail was chewed to a nub. Her left forefoot now has only one toe. Or at least only one toenail. I believe the toes are gone, too. Poor baby.
As long as I was taking photos I took one of this sweet fern fossil I found while hiking with my cousin in March:
Now that it's after 9pm, I'm sure it's too late to start the taxes. Guess I'll have to do them tomorrow.
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