Last Sunday, the stillness of the air surrounding our luxurious suburban home, as opposed to the luxurious urban home which we do not own, was shattered by a sound that's all too familiar from April through November, but we don't generally hear it in January.
A guy who lives in the development behind us (Painan Acres) was out there cutting his lawn. This is the guy - there is one in every nine-digit zip code - whose yard resembles nothing quite so much as a claw machine
. All over the yard there are little garden gnomes, fake waterfalls, purple flamingos, solar-powered lights, moist grottoes, dry patches, bendovers, corny 
cutout silhouettes, sedimentary rock formations, and also some goofy stuff.So he's cutting frozen grass in January. What th'?
Then came Wednesday, and Peggy and I are headed to the supermarket, and right around the corner, here comes a neighbor on his Yard Boss mini tractor. He had a look of devotion to duty, or fixation on some distant point. I think he was just riding around the yard, rather than cutting grass, but what is going on with all these lawn mowers in use in the middle of the winter?
Of course, we could always go buy a house in the city, but that's a whole 'nother bunch of problems. Let me stay here and figure this one out. Meanwhile, can I get some Pam® for my snow shovel?
And doesn't January seem like one of those months that should only have 30 days?
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