Tall grass and grumpy mowers
A rural survivor tale
They say the grass is always greener on the other side, at my place, it’s just taller. So tall, in fact, that my visiting grandkids were playing hide and seek in it — at night they dared each other to run into my lawn like it was Children of the Corn or something. I figure when I do finally get it mowed, I’ll find my missing garden hose and maybe MaryLee’s sports car.
It’…
