Whose Job is it, Anyway? #MFRWAuthor

When I was young, really young, many many years ago…no we didn’t go to town in a covered wagon but our telephone number included a word, in this case Cherry 95700…I had two brothers, and a mother who believed in gender specific chores. Therefore I folded clothes and helped with dinner while my brothers got to mow the lawn.You read that right, I had ‘girl’ jobs while my brothers had ‘boy’ jobs. Given my propensity to high drama, you can imagine my expression when I placed their folded laundry on their beds while listening to the sound of lawn mowers and smelling the sweet green of new cut grass.

Fast forward several decades, and a phone call from my youngest brother, in his mid teens. He was the only one home, and he was hungry. Knowing the usual contents of that refrigerator, I suggested cooking up a hamburger. Great idea but…he didn’t know how. I don’t think I’d read Heinlein yet, or I would have quoted Lazarus Long:

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

Instead, I talked him through cooking his own meal, and continued to wonder about gender specific jobs. Particularly since, by then I had worked in various kennels and stables, and learned whoever was handy did the job. If they didn’t know how to they better learn. Fast.

And fast forward to today, when I live much of my dream though without the person with whom I shared that dream. A person who though mowing lawns was just the greatest game ever. When he found out we could acquire a riding lawn mower along with our five acres, he was in bliss, and would take any opportunity to start it up.Not so much my passion, and the lawn tractor sits, unloved, under a protection of tarps.

But the rain produces green stuff, and after a while the weed whacker just was not getting 024the job done. So, a birthday present to myself:

All bright and shiny and clean. Not for long.

It took some time to read the set up instructions (I know, a markedly female tendency, not one I often utilize)

Soon I was chugging puffing and hauling and pushing that 008new toy around. Note: if possible do not start a lawn project after noon, especially in the high and dry. Eventually my pretty new toy will look even more used. I can’t wait!

However, this is only for the area around the house, where walkways are obscured by growth of unknown origin. The big field has planted itself in something lovely, and I won’t interfere there. All too soon, it will be chilly and deep with snow.005

I’ll leave you with a word of advice. If you want to do the best by your children, teach them to do everything. They’ll thank you in the end. Hugs

5 Comments

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5 responses to “Whose Job is it, Anyway? #MFRWAuthor

  1. Our number used to be Sycamore 7-3167! My daughters took your advice, if not mine. They pretty much grow everything they eat and sew, knit and crochet everything they wear. Much more talented than their mommy.

    Like

  2. I used to sew, but not any longer.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. That is great advice and a lovely piece.

    Liked by 1 person

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