Our lawn mower was given to us by Donald's dad back in 2000. It came down from Rockhampton especially. It was a family heirloom that was originally Donald's grandmothers, Ruth Lillian Walker, who passed away in 1998.
Now we don't really know what vintage it is but she's still going after all of this time and still runs on the smell of an oily rag. There were times she wouldn't start and then there were the times that she started and the whole neighbourhood became engulfed in smoke. For every time that I can't start the mower Donald steps in and gets it going, he seems to have the magic touch. Now it's time for the mower to change hands....
...on to another generation. Sam mowed his first lawn this week, (under strict supervision mind you) and aren't we proud!! It's not easy I might add, with the wobbly handles that make it hard to push
and the wonky wheels that make it even harder to steer.
I know, I used to be the one to mow the lawns, even when I was 5 months pregnant and Sam was crying at the window because he didn't like the noise or me mowing. We had a bigger yard back then too, and thicker grass, it's much easier now in this house. It's time to move on and let the young ones do the work Now I'm the one standing at the window crying, looking at my big boy working like a man.