So I just mowed. And ngl, I feel a weight off my shoulders seeing a modest instead of an obscene height of grass when I look outside. (I moved up the deck of my lawnmower anyway to make absolutely sure it'll mow without getting stuck up.) And to make up for it, maybe I won't mow for another, oh, month. Maybe.
United States Constitution, Article I, Section 9, Clause 8: "No Person holding any Office of Profit or Trust under them, shall, without the Consent of the Congress, accept of any present, Emolument, Office, or Title, of any kind whatever, from any King, Prince, or foreign State."
Saturday, May 21, 2022
No Mow May No Mo'
I couldn't do it. I couldn't last that long. I understand the theory behind No Mow May, even though I think it's too simple an idea to not have its detractors. But the grass was getting too damn long. Parts of the front yard were a foot long -- a foot! If I waited eleven more days I was afraid my lawnmower wouldn't be able to mow without getting clogged up. And besides, those detractors: One of them's my co-worker, and she pointed out that if we're getting rain in the next couple days (although I don't think we're supposed to get rain here for a while), the grass you mow will quickly grow back -- and the dandelions and other flowers (and maybe weeds) you decapitated will quickly grow back, too. So are the bees and the other pollinators really in trouble if you mow in May?
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