On Learning How to Mow: Lessons from my Grandfather.

I remember distinctly the day my grandfather (Pappy) taught me, not how to mow, but how to mow well. It was an after-school lesson. I’d often walk to my grandparents house, which resided just down the street from my middle-school. This particular afternoon, I had been tasked with mowing their lawn. In retrospect, I understand now that the sole purpose of this delegation was for educational purposes (who would really let their 12 year old grandson mow the lawn if they wanted it done the right way?) Pappy knew there was a lesson woven into this seemingly menial task. There were logistical lessons along the way of course. How to mow up a hill. How to mow at an angle (to create that pristine lawn-look.)

I was your basic yard kind of guy. No frills, just getting the job done.

Simple lines.

Within my simplicity however, Pappy saw an area of opportunity. You see, I would go as fast as possible. I could have cared less what it looked like, if the grass was even, or if I had left clumps strewn about. I wanted to get it done so I could go inside and watch TV.