Sunday, May 13, 2007
"It's just grass."
When I was originally looking at buying this place, it was late Fall, and before letting ourselves in, my Realtor and I paused to watch a crew of about 6 men working on the 1++ acre yard. Bruce looked down at me in that patriarchal way that's almost avoidable from a man a foot taller than myself. "That's... an awful lot of yard," he said, the little lady understood but unspoken.
I smiled in goofy desperation, because from the time I'd seen the place I knew I'd be living here. "It's just grass." flutter flutter
Well, let me tell you. "It's just grass" becomes a lot more fun when you've got the right pardner. And this is my pardner. I won't go all Tim Taylor here, but I will say that the motor on this little golden devil is almost as big as what's in my motorcycle (and quite a bit bigger than my first bike).