chore?

There is a "chore" that I actually steal from my kids.
Their dad expects them to do it, and most of the time they do.
But if I have time...I will tell them to please let me finish it up.
They are excused.
I kick them off.
Because it's MY turn.

I'm talking about a lawn mower.

We live on an acre, and a lot of that is grass.
It is beautiful and park-like, and we love playing
wiffle-ball, frisbee, croquet, football and horseshoes among other things on that grass.

The kids might groan and complain about the time it takes to mow it,
but not me.

Tonight I excused my oldest, and hopped on the mower.
I had a stressful day, and I wanted downtime.
The mower is a PERFECT way to unwind!
With my ipod on, I can turn it up and croon out loud to the likes of
Sum 41, Alison Krauss, and the Jonas Brothers
(yes, we have quite a mix thanks to the picks of ALL members of the family).
I rock out in my seat and no one can tell me to be quiet because the mower is louder than me.

I mow around the tree garden and my nostrils fill with the scent of marigolds.
For some reason, I LOVE the smell of marigolds...earthy.

I'm on that mower for over an hour, and when I am not inhaling and singing to my heart's content, I might be planning the next days activities in my head.
Or I will notice the rose gardens need deadheading.
It makes me smile to watch the quail family run from their hideout
under our cedar tree as I mow past them.
I've been known to use this time to have conversations with my Heavenly Father, offering up prayers of thanks or perhaps in supplication.

I love it when the sky turns pink, and the dogs chase me a bit.
Often I will scoop one of them up and let them ride with me a while.
Sometimes it's my youngest daughter who wants to ride,
and she will sit by my feet with one arm wrapped around each of my legs.
We mow in silence, and contentment.

A mindless chore.
A chore that forces me to SIT.
A chore that allows me to think and imagine and plan and pray.

And how could anyone groan about that?