The Toro and I had a difference of opinion today. It was a question of who was more bull headed. I won. At first. But then, I realized it had a point. A valid one. So, it won. And yet, I still did.
Let me explain.
The characters in this story? Me, sunburned and sweaty and just wanting to get 'er done. The lawn, or should I say hayfield? Overgrown and shaggy, the product of recent abundant rains and stifling humidity. And the Toro. That sturdy, little red riding mower, generously offered by Daddy when our John Deere resigned without notice.
Given the aforementioned weather, the grass was wet within and without. But mowing had to be done. This lovely thick grass would provide clippings which would be a marvelous deterrent to the weed growth in my garden. And wet grass clippings left on the lawn tend to cling to feet, only to drop off when carried by those feet into house and elsewhere.
The Trucker gassed up the Toro, installed the apparatus that blew grass clippings back into the bags, kissed his erstwhile Passenger goodbye, and roared off to collect a load of Halloween candy for Modesto, California.
The Passenger mounted her Toro, and charged across the lawn. More or less. Mostly less.
Shortly a grating, grinding noise was heard from beneath el Toro, and clumps of wet grass began to show under the tires. A clog.
We stopped, and I detached the pipe and cleared the clog. This process was repeated enough times to confirm the fact that collecting grass for the garden was not going to happen. Sigh.
Removing the pipe, and trotting to the garage for a tarp strap to raise the mower shield enough to allow grass to escape (because I am a Trucker's wife*) took even more time. Finally, el Toro charged again. The grass was cut, and blown across the lawn. Success! Mostly.
As mentioned before, mowing is a good time for thinking. And I thought about my goal for the afternoon. To mow the lawn and spread the clippings on the garden. The Toro had no thoughts, being an inanimate object. But it still communicated what was possible - cutting the grass, and what was impossible - blowing it into the bag. Both of us had very good reasons for what we were attempting.
This is true of people as well, relating to each other. We may, and often do, have very different ideas, which seem perfectly legitimate to ourselves. But to those who do not understand our reasoning, they make no sense at all. The lack of understanding can cause great damage.
It helps to remember that everyone has a perfectly good reason for what they do and say. The necessary ingredient for a successful outcome? Communication. Plain and simple.
So, el Toro, had a valid point: the grass was too wet to blow. I had a valid point: the lawn needed mowed. The middle ground? I released the demand of bagging the grass. El Toro released the right to clog. And the job got done.
Simplistic example, I know. But all our human conflicts have an easily accessible solution, if we but communicate our reasons and goals. The only decision needed beyond preferences is right vs. wrong according to Scripture.
*(The first time I mowed without the bagger, Daddy appeared with a thin wire, to hold the shield higher, allowing the grass to spread more freely rather than clump on the lawn. I appreciated his thoughtfulness!
Mentioning that at the dinner table had DS#1's eye glinting in remembrance. "Yep, Grandpa always did that for me too!"
DS#2's response? "Hey mom, you're a Trucker's wife! Don't you know you are supposed to use a tarp strap instead?" Hah. Whatever works at the time, Son.)
