and I’m happy to have learned it.
I’ve spent most of my life avoiding small engines. My mower at home is a push mower, and I converted most of my lawn to garden and wild area. I bought a chainsaw about 15 years ago but never really bonded with it. Too temperamental, too prone to get out of adjustment, and it has always been really really hard to start. Physically demanded a lot of strength. It is a Jonsered – people admire them a lot, but at this point I’d like to sell it.
About 10 years ago I bought a lawn mower for the lake. A 5 horse power Briggs and Stratton with big back wheels, and the kid next door used it to mow the lawn for many years at $15 and then $20 a time. I didn’t have to do anything to or for it. Two years ago he quit and the lake group took over mowing. So it was up to me to maintain this machine.
I really like to know and understand any tool I use. I didn’t even understand what kind of engine this is – I thought it was a 2 cycle engine. Someone pointed out that any easy way to tell it is not is that it takes oil and gas in separate compartments. Ohh. Two cycle engines need it mixed. Ohhhh.
I figured out how important it is to have fresh gas. OK. That’s easy. Although what do you do with the old gas? And environmentalists dilemma. New spark plugs every once in a while. Makes sense.
So last year I mowed the lawn three times. The first three times ever in my life. It was sort of fun. I can appreciate a machine that works well and accomplishes so much.
But this year – visiting friends got it started, and I set out to mow the next day. The machine quit on me after 10 minutes. No one could say what I should do. I was asking all the men for help and wishing they would just be men and fix it for me. That’s a weird thing for me to ask for. I usually hate doing that. But I really felt that I wanted a man to fix this annoying machine.
I wish I had that sort of man in my life – as a partner or at least who would show up and rescue me from the combustion engine.
Nope, I had to load it into my truck and bring it home.
So it was driving around with me for the next few days, seeking someone who would know what to do. I was ready to take it to my ex-sister-in-law’s boyfriend, who does know these machines. Then a male friend opened up the air filter compartment and showed me a pretty serious and obvious problem.
Ohhhh, they have air filters. That should be changed more often than every ten years….
Easy easy easy. Stadium hardware carries them and Zomba’s favorite guy got me the right spark plug as well. So five minutes with a slot screw driver and vice grips for the spark plug and my machine roared to life.
I’m thrilled. A victory and entry into a world I had never wanted to deal with. I feel so happy to have learned something about these horrible noisy but necessary machines.
Now this whole damsel in distress “isn’t there a man who will save me?” scenario — that is worth examining and hopefully getting over. It is captivating (literally) and seductive but mostly I feel it coming over me and think maybe I should quietly vomit. There is a healthy place between wanting to be rescued and wanting a lot more support in my life. Being hopelessly heterosexual there is something special about being nurtured by a man. It meets a very primal need. But rescued? I don’t want to be in the position that I need rescuing. But please, some guy who shows up rather soon and begins to share the work of living so there is more time to share the pleasures of life? Yes yes yes.
Meanwhile, mowing the lawn will be more fun then ever because I have some greater connection with the machine that is my lawn mower. I sure do get pleasure from the strangest places…
Linda, I found your blog while searching for information about Camp Comstack, which I attended for many years…way back in the 1960s. I don’t suppose you have any photos of Comstock??