My husband and I enjoyed the 4th by going out to lunch in Georgetown and then taking a walk through Dumbarton Oaks Park, which will be the subject of my next post.
Then we returned home and tag-teamed cutting our grass.
It’s not that we have very much lawn — quite the contrary as you can see from the photos below. It’s that we live in an attached rowhouse and the only way to get from the front yard to the back, or vice-versa, is go through the house (or around the block).
It’s also that we cut the grass with an antique reel lawnmower that my father gave me. I believe it belonged to my grandfather. It weighs 26 very awkward pounds (feels like 50, as they say about the weather). But I use it for sentiment, and because I think it’s rather beautiful, and because I can’t resist a free tool.
To cut our grass, my husband first pulls the mower from the covered area outside the back door and rolls it through the basement and out a front door, up the basement steps and out to our tiny strip,
which he cuts in about three minutes. Then he carries it back down the steps,
through the basement again, and back out the door. Then he hands it over to me.
Then, I take the mower up the back basement steps to the deck,
down the deck steps,
and down the sidewalk to our little round “lawn.”
The cutting takes me about seven minutes only because I have to move a couple of chairs. Then I have to retrace my steps, maybe take an Advil, and think about how a tiny meadow in that spot would be a good idea.
If you are in the U.S., enjoy the fireworks tonight!