A Lawn Mower Is Not Necessarily a Lawn Mower

It's sort of funny how weed whacking the lawn got me to realize what the actual problem was with the lawn mower. 

Because I actually liked weed whacking it. I liked seeing how well it could look under the worst of circumstances, and I liked the workout. I didn't actually hate the physical task. I hated the equipment that was required under normal conditions.

My problem was with this stupid lawn mower that I bought when I bought the house because it was very highly rated, and everyone I asked who owned a home said that you needed a good gas mower, and I figured that as long as it had a key start -- because I knew I couldn't do a pull start -- that it would be fine. 

So I researched and researched, and bought the best one in my price range with a key start. I thought I would be all set. Lawn care is an American and homeowner right of passage. I would be the awesome single woman taking care of her own yard.

Except for the part where the key start has not always reliably worked because I am too stupid to use a lawn mower. It blew a fuse because I tried to get it to do too much. I leaked oil into the filter when I tipped it over, not realizing that the fuse was the real reason it didn't work. Because none of the service people originally looked at the key start (hence the fuse problem) when testing it, I was convinced that because they could get it to start and I couldn't, that it was all my fault. 

I've regretted not trusting my gut and getting an electric one ever since. 

So mid-May felt like a perfect storm of two good things. 

1. I realized I didn't mind the yard work, but I hated the lawn mower.
2. An alum posted on the homeowner's group about switching to an electric mower, and the other comments were positive. 

I started researching, and actually liked what I found. The model I was looking at was decently rated, with batteries that were compatible with what I had. It's better for the environment, and although it's expensive, the electric ones don't require gas, and all of the small engine things that drive me absolute batshit. There were the typical cautions about size that it can easily mow and the battery power -- but everything talked about 1/4 acre lawns being ideal, and my entire lot, including the house, is on 1/4 acre. Score.

Plus, I found it awfully telling that the manual for the new one was a total of 17 pages... compared to the 26 pages of English instructions for the old one.

The alum explained that part of why she was switching was because of her rage against the patriarchy. That she could never get it to start. 

I commented in agreement, but then realized that it wasn't the patriarchy I was raging against. 

Instead, it was the pure incompetence I felt every time I had to interact with the damn thing.

• I could barely push it. It took me a year to figure out how the self-propel feature worked (and then the mansplainer told me, while trying not to laugh). 
• It doesn't start reliably with the key, and I could never get the pull start to actually work. Because I may be able to propel myself in a heavy kayak through water, and I can bench lift 50 pounds, but I cannot get a stupid lawn mower to start. 
• I had to ask the mansplainer to help with the engine, and while that was nice once, then it just starts to get embarrassing.
• It doesn't fit in the Jetta, so any time it needs to be serviced, I'm paying $80 just for that, on top of the service fees. 

It makes me feel like I'm an awful horrible human being who missed some giant life lesson somewhere. I hate it. And I hate how it makes me feel. 

So it's time to fix what I messed up four years ago. I don't blame me entirely. I took the advice of others who had owned homes and mowed lawns, and had practical experience. I read Consumer Reports. I did the best I could with the knowledge I had.

When in reality? Really should have trusted my gut. What worked for them didn't work for me. And it's OK to acknowledge and accept that, and to start to make it right. 

I'm not saying the new lawn mower will be perfect. But at least now I can close that chapter and stop feeling horrible every time I look at a lawn mower.