I ran the lawnmower again today, having replaced a knob that had fallen off that holds the handle together. I did mow the front portion of the yard, but in the back yard, the engine kept stalling. Even when I restarted it, it would die. So, angry and discouraged, I gave up. I decided that if I was close to crying and cursing, it was time to stop. Eighty-degree weather did not help.
I looked in the old-fashioned yellow pages and found an ad I liked for yard care: not too big [and therefore maybe not so expensive]; no mention of commercial work and pavement washing, so maybe no commercial mindset; but still one of those master gardener-type of people who know what they are doing.
Will call him in the AM and have him look at the yard and give me a bid for mowing, and go from there.
I felt strangely defeated with the lawnmower. I felt as if I am a failure for not figuring out what was wrong, other than having grass too long and an engine that was probably flooding, neither of which I can fix. I had to remind myself that: I know how to sew, I know how to cook, I know how to write, and I know how to manage the Medicare wing of a skilled nursing facility. I don't have to know everything.
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