Lawn Care

I often write of my neighbours Ginger and Norman, who watch my house while I'm away (and, frankly, while I'm there), bake me pies, and serve as my airport taxi service. Yesterday they really outdid themselves. I stopped to chat with them after Mollie's morning walk, and Ginger asked if my landlord takes care of lawn mowing. This was her nice way of telling me that the dandelion garden I'm cultivating is cramping her style (Ginger is a precise and constant gardener). I said no, and that as she could see, I'd been very lazy about addressing the issue.

Then I went to work, leaving Mollie in the back yard.

When I returned, I let Mollie inside to have her dinner, and noticed that she was covered in grass clippings. It seems Ginger and Norman had come over and mowed both my front and back yards (the back was verging on jungle). I told them that they were gold-star neighbours, and Ginger said "Well, if we were in wheelchairs you'd do the same for us." That's true. I also suspect that being an academic is kind of like wearing a sign that says "I require assistance."