Understanding Walter

This is Walter.

Walter thinks I am a dumbass.

I think Walter is…probably right…

First. It’s important for us all to remember. That I am an intelligent person. I am as intelligent as a person can be. While simultaneously being a dumbass.

So, I have this big ass lawn.

Prior to this weekend, it was my favorite part of this house.

I have this nice, roomy front yard.

And this gorgeous backyard. Filled with a fire pit and garden plot and grape vine and what looks to be some sort of fruit tree.

And poke salad.

My mom was preparing to rip those bad boys out of the ground when my dad’s inner Kentucky reared up and calmly said, “That’s poke salad.“

We don’t kill poke salad.

We eat it.

And while I’m probably not the first person y’all would entrust with a plant that is poisonous until you cook it…properly…

My ancestral Kentucky is willing to give it a go.

I’m pretty sure it’ll be fine.

It won’t be the thing that kills me.

This thing is far more likely to be the thing that takes me out.

That’s a stake.

A slim, solid, metal stake. That was holding in some low fencing that seemed hazardous.

But now that I’ve managed to get the rest of the fencing and stakes up. While this one is unwilling to budge. I realize that I’ve really only served to increase the hazard level.

Because that shit blends right on into the background.

But none of these things are the reason I’m a dumbass.

No no.

So, I came home from work. And PlayFITStayFIT full body workout. To get a jump start on mowing the lawn. On Friday evening. So that I wouldn’t have to spend all day Saturday mowing.

The back yard had sprouted its own jungle-esque ecosystem. And Walter is a tiny little 40 volt electric mower. Far too fragile to handle the knee high grass in the backyard.

So I spent an hour Friday evening weed eating the grass down to a more acceptable ankle height.

Then. Saturday morning. The entirety of my neighborhood went outside at 10am. And started mowing.

By 10:45. The entirety of my neighborhood was back inside their cool homes. Mowing done.

While I was still fighting through the front yard.

Walter would manage a few feet. Before coughing. Sputtering. And then dramatically dying.

I’d restart him. He’d go a few feet. Cough. Sputter. And die.

We did this. For an hour. Until the batteries died.

But I have back up batteries.

So, I’d put the dead batteries on to charge. And give Walter new life with the fully charged ones.

Thinking this was the perfect cycle. Right?

Except those bitches take three hours to charge. And Walter is just sucking through the juice of the fresh batteries. No way he’s making them last three hours while the others refill.

But I managed to finish the front lawn. And start on the back. Before Walter sucked through the second set.

Put them on to charge while I busied myself with cleaning the house and doing some laundry.

Went back out and gave Walter some mostly charged batteries and got back to work.

And he was being dramatic AF about the grass. So that, even at the highest deck setting, I still had to tilt him back a bit so he didn’t fully touch the ground.

And it was occurring to me that the environmental advantages I thought I was experiencing with an electric mower were probably being negated by the extra amount of energy AEP was having to produce to keep Walter sated.

By 3pm, I was almost halfway through the backyard. But I had to shower and head to my momma’s house for family cookout. So the yard would have to wait.

But for real, all y’all talking about “you’re glowing” in the pics of mi nieto and me.

That’s not glowing so much as five hours in the blazing sun trying to do basic yard work.

But also, he does make me really happy…

Anyway. The part where I’m a dumbass.

So I went back out at 10am this morning. Started working with fresh batteries. Walter managed about another tenth of the yard before letting me know he needed a refill.

So I took a break to pick up some groceries and run to Boones Mill with my kids to get my new office furniture GJB and Lil TJB gifted me.

Then, by 3pm, Walter and I went back to work. And he kept coughing. And dying. And I kept calling him a fucking drama queen. And he kept calling me a dumbass.

And I kept thinking how this was only the pre-mowing. Because I wasn’t even letting Walter even touch the bottom of the grass. And I would have to go back. And do all of this. Again. Every damn night after work this week. To get the grass to an acceptable height.

And that’s when I noticed…

The deck height lever.

Was all the way on the last notch. Closest to me.

And I’d been looking at it for three fucking days thinking how can this dude be struggling this hard when I’m not even asking him to really fully mow???

And then my brain did some processing.

Possibly even a little math.

The deck height lever…should be on the last notch…farthest away from me.


So the lawn is mowed now.

And Walter is resting peacefully in his room.

And I’m gonna probably just gonna spend the rest of my evening reading all of my library books. That came in at once.

While looking at my adequately mowed three day lawn in the background.

Next weekend, Walter and I are going to dominate these men on their bullshit riding mowers.

Now that we’ve found the proper deck height setting.

Just so fucking intelligent…

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