by Curt Kovener 
The other day as I delivered fuel for my mother’s lawn mower, she later said she liked to mow. “It gives me a chance to think,” she said.
As slow as Mother mows, she must have a lot to think about.
But, like Momma, I use the mower time to think, plan, and contemplate.
It is a productive use of time as long as I don’t run into trees, over flowers or shrubs as I am lost in though.
Sometimes I solve problems, sometimes I plan for future business matters, sometimes I daydream like James Thurber’s Walter Mitty.
Sometimes I contemplate the conflicted oddities of life. Things like: Why does Charley the yellow lab like to wade in the lake, romp in the creek, but will not go out in the rain to take care of his business?
And why does Charley like to ride with the rear window down so he can stick his head out into the wind, but will growl in disgust and aggravation if I blow in his face?
Why does Charley enjoy wading in the shoreline muck of the wilderness lake, but resists all efforts to use a hose to rinse off the foul smelling ooze?
Why does my yellow lab wait to show his affection for me until I have on dark clothes?
Why does Charley consider the droppings of deer and turkey as fine smelling cologne which he enjoys applying?
What does Charley ignore a bowlful of his own food to sit and drool on the floor as I finish my plate of food so he can lick a few smidgens of people food? (Though I suppose I should consider his service as pre-rinsing.)
There are other matters of contemplation which arise that help me through the mowing process…or is it the mowing process helps me through the contemplations?
But please do not ask me to do some of your mowing. You need to do your own thinking.
