Mowing the Lawn - Creating Our Bee Lawn
"Perfect Lawns" Stink Traditional Turf Grass Lawn in April I had a nemesis called the Grand Prix. It was a coppery gold and had a black Briggs & Stratton motor mounted on it. This was controlled by a series of wires and ropes. It had a grass catcher that would only catch a very small amount of grass dangling precariously from one side. It was a lawnmower. I hated that thing. I distinctly remember being left with that thing during the summer between 6th and 7th grade. I'd be under orders from my parents to mow the lawn before they came home. And I did my level best. But even if I managed to get it started the first time, if I ever shut it down to empty the tiny grass catcher, the job was over. I'd struggle with adjustments to the choke. I'd pull the starter cord until my arm was sore. It would simply refuse to turn over. And then I'd be in trouble. "It's not my fault!" I'd protest, to no avail, and my dad would go outside, pull ...