We have a large yard. There are many advantages to this, and only a few disadvantages. The main disadvantage comes when it is time to mow it. Even then it's not a huge disadvantage, because we have several in our home who can mow. But sometimes.......
Over the past month the grass grew to great heights. Between the rain, the trip down south, ball games and work schedules, the lawn just kept being put off. This week the day of reckoning came. I mowed some on Tuesday night (missing my son's ball game in order to do it). The front yard grass was so high that I had to set the deck up to mow, knowing that it would take another pass to make it look pretty. Wednesday night was church, and last night ball practice. So today was the day to mow the whole yard to a reasonable height. It took just under three hours, and there are still some areas that need a touch up. But at least it looks like some body cares. Ben has worked at mowing, which is why the whole yard wasn't in the same sorry shape as the front. Eric, who does an admirable job on this, has been working on the chicken coop in his spare time. As a side note, the chicken coop is looking really good. I can't wait until it is done.
I love to mow, because it gives me uninterrupted time to think great thoughts. At least they seem great while I'm out there. Today I was thinking about just what a wonderful gift language is. And equally great is the gift of literacy. I've heard the saying "readers are leaders" for over twenty years, and I've always believed it, though I don't believe I always understood just why it was true. Avid readers have access to all the accumulated knowledge of all the great minds throughout the years. What a wonderful gift!!!! Knowledge does not have to be forgotten with the passing of time, but can be built on and added to by those wise enough to make use of the written word.
I think part of the pain of death is the loss of a shared history that necessarily comes with it. All that a person is, all that he knows, all that he has done is lost if not recorded while there is life. A civilization, I think, cannot excel if there is no way to write down its history, which is nothing more than the collective stories of individuals. The gift of language and literacy is a means for keeping a person alive, even though they are dead, and to preserve a nation wise enough to learn from those who left a written record of the reasons why things were done as they were.
This is just some of what occupied my thoughts while mowing. I am not satisfied with how it sounds now that it is written, but I suppose it's because thoughts always seem more profound while sitting on a riding lawn mower.
