I'm Retired! Now what?

April 16, 2026

Often when folks retire, they throw out such inspirational words as, “Ah, now I’ll have all that time to work in my yard!”  Although such words may sound a bit moving, the subject of yardwork only makes me want to move to the couch.  Now having a nice yard is, for the most part, nice, and for the last twenty-five years I’ve been living in a wonderfully green neighborhood of nice yards.  In fact, every few days I’ll see a pickup truck cruising around the neighborhood hauling a trailer full of lawn mowers, along with a group of folks who can barely speak English, in an effort to keep all these neighborhood lawns looking nice.  As for me?  I generally have one major rule when it comes to mowing my lawn.  If I can see the road in front of my house over my grass, I’m good.

Back in my single days, I had a modest house with a modest yard.  A modest yard that I could push mow and weed whack in a mere hour and change.  Indeed, those were the good old days.  After I had fallen into the realm of happy matrimony though, my modest house and yard were just a bit too modest in my bride’s mind and just wouldn’t do.  Originally Margaret wanted to buy a house with five to ten acres.  My thoughts concerning such an endeavor were, “What the heck are we going to do with that much land?  Mow it and pay property taxes?”   Thank the good Lord that she never found such acreage, and she was forced to settle for the meek, peasant patch of one acre where our house now resides!

Everyone likes a nice yard until they have to mow it, and for the first few years I was out there mowing that mammoth yard with a push mower.  Indeed, I was getting a step count that should have been in the Fitbit hall of fame, and there’s nothing quite like pushing a lawn mower for six hours to keep your blood pressure and blood sugar down to a respectable level.  In fact, I had a doctor’s checkup right after I had been mowing one day and the top number of my blood pressure was hovering around something like 25.  My immediate question to my doctor was, “Shouldn’t I be dead?”  He said I was fine.  The lower the better.  I guess I’ll take his word for it. 

If I was to be completely honest, I’d have to say that I did feel like a real man out there pushing my mower for hours on end in the blazing Texas sun!  Some of my more manly moments have occurred while hiking in the mountains, so why not dish out 20,000 steps to mow my lawn!  As far as I’m concerned, my yard is my own personal gym!  Who needs a Nordictrack or Peloton when you’ve got an acre of ankle high grass to push mow! With that in mind, I’ve always been a bit confused by one of my neighbors.  This guy has become a dedicated bike rider, and for health reasons he rides his bike around the neighborhood at least 30 minutes to an hour every single day, rain or shine, but then he hires someone to mow his lawn.

Once, I did break down and partake in such an endeavor.  Indeed, I actually hired someone to mow my lawn.  They guy charged me a hundred bucks, and I had to negotiate the price through an interpreter.  Such made me wish that I had devoted a little more time to the two Spanish classes I took back in college.  I don’t remember the guy’s name, but he sent out three tween boys to do the job, and I must say, they did a great job!  They did such a great job that Margaret felt inclined to tip them all.  I never learned how much she tipped them, but I’m guessing that lawn job cost a bit more than a hundred bucks.  I could nearly hear my dear, departed father screaming in my mind, “A hundred bucks!?!  That’s twice what my first mower cost!”

So I went back to pushing the mower.  Having a corner lot I’m always in constant view, regardless what part of my yard I’m mowing, and every time a vehicle drove by I could nearly hear my neighbors say, “That poor soul.”  I almost expected them to start a GoFundMe in order to buy me a riding lawn mower.  One of my neighbors even stopped by one day while I was mowing to inform me that he was moving to an apartment and his rider was for sale.  I did finally break down and buy a rider, but after a few years the blessed thing started having carburetor issues.  Back in those days my wife was vanpooling to work with a bunch of guys who were all serious Mr. Handyman, do it yourselfers, and every time I’d complain about my lawnmower not working, she would throw out, “Well, the vanpool guys can fix their own lawnmowers.”   Of course, I interpreted her words as, “Wouldn’t it be nice to be a real man?”  So I went on line and I ordered myself a new carburetor and found myself an instructional YouTube video on how to change out a lawn mower’s carburetor and low and behold….well, I just screwed it up even more, and I was back to push mowing.  My calf and thigh muscle tone though, never looked better! 

When my wife’s mother passed away, I inherited another rider, mainly because my wife’s brother was living in an apartment and I’m pretty sure my wife’s sister didn’t realize that there was a riding lawnmower to inherit.  Okay, so I basically just took the thing, but it never worked that great anyway.  It would run great for an hour or so and then putter out which means I was back to push mowing.  Have I mentioned how great the muscle tone on my legs looked?  Despite having those ripped thighs and calves, I finally found someone to work on the mower this summer.  I hooked up with this guy named Kevin who works on small engines as a side job.  Actually I met him years ago when I used to hang out with his ex-wife, and he agreed to work on the inherited mower for me.  Now the big question was, how do I get it there?

When I bought my first rider, I also bought some ramps with the idea that someday I might need to haul my mower around.  Well, that day had come.  I parked my trusty Chevy Silverado in my driveway and strategically lined up the ramps with the mower’s tires, thinking that might be the most important thing to consider….it wasn’t.  Physics was the most important thing to consider.  Driving my mower up the ramp into the bed of my pickup truck seemed like an easy enough job. However, about halfway up the ramp the front wheels began to lift up into the air.  I was starting to pop an impromptu wheely that wasn’t going to end well.  Fortunately I made it back down the ramp without the blessed mower falling back on top of me.  Like most houses in the country, I have a minor ditch that runs near the road which carries the rainfall.  With the back wheels of my truck lowered in the ditch I was able to give myself a more survival friendly angle in which to load the mower into my pickup.  I never took physics in college, but I was able to determine that a less incline equals the less chance of a painful and humiliating death.  With that in mind, I was able to load the mower with no issues, hospital trips, or serious physical maiming, which in my world means success! 

Well, the thing works great now, and I actually mowed a little today.  I guess I’ll just have to find something else to keep my legs toned.