this post was submitted on 26 Aug 2024
33 points (97.1% liked)

Casual Conversation

1775 readers
530 users here now

Share a story, ask a question, or start a conversation about (almost) anything you desire. Maybe you'll make some friends in the process.


RULES

Casual conversation communities:

Related discussion-focused communities

founded 2 years ago
MODERATORS
you are viewing a single comment's thread
view the rest of the comments
[–] [email protected] 6 points 4 months ago* (last edited 4 months ago)

My lawnmower.

Bear with me.

When I was a kid my dad had a proper lawnmower. It was petrol-powered with a cylinder cutting head and a heavy roller at the back. A Suffolk Colt. There was something about it, the combined smell of petrol and freshly mown grass, the perfect stripes it laid on the lawn, the neatness of the cut. When I was old enough I was allowed to use it to mow the lawn. The only chore I was given that was pure pleasure. I loved running that machine over the grass, loved the the pull of the eager little engine when I opened the throttle, loved the sound, loved the smell, loved everything about it...

I'm in my 50s now, but it wasn't until I bought my own, refurbished Suffolk Colt, about 10 years ago, that I felt maybe, just maybe, that I was a proper grown-up like my dad was. 10-year old me would smile and understand.