The house is on a hill, so from the windowsill, he has a good view of anything that moves in the yard. Well, I used to call it a yard. I may again, if I get a chance to mow it before it turns even more wild. I like mowing the lawn. It's a chore Grandpa assigned to me when I was about 12, and he was very picky about how it should be done; straight lines, overlap the last row just so so that there is no escaping line of unmowed grass, perfection was what was expected, and nothing less would do. Now that I have my own
In any case, I find mowing to be really cathartic. As I mow, I have time to think about all kinds of things, and I'm maneuvering this heavy lawnmower, and in the end, I get that nice satisfactory feeling of having accomplished something...even though it's a neverending struggle. (It's like laundry, another favorite task.) I must be yearning for spring, so I can get out there again!
It might not be popular or environmentally friendly to have lawns these days, and well, I probably wouldn't have landscaped like this had it been my choice in the first place, but it's here, and it looks a right mess when it's not mowed, so it MUST be done, and at least I get a little personal therapy now and then whilst I mow.
The cat, of course, hates it and hides in a cupboard the whole time.