Midwest Memo
Briggs, Stratton andme
by Alan Shultz

We got a deal on a little rental property last year. It's a homely 1950s ranch with a good tenant and lots of white vinyl siding.

Although there's no garage, the house came with a tall plastic shed. The shed was propped up against the fence in the back yard. A beige affair, it was, of large interlocking parts. I never even looked inside the shed until after we closed the deal.When I did take a look inside I found a rake, a shovel and an old red lawn mower - an unnamed brand with that familiar Briggs and Stratton engine.

I've never owned a shed. I know nothing of shed law or shed custom and usage. I've never owned a shed and I still don't own one. After we closed on the house the former owner came back a week later and took his shed.

"Wasn't in the contract," he mumbled.

He evicted the rake, the shovel and the mower and left them lying out in the open as he hauled his shed away.

Hmmmmm.

At the closing we learned that the tenant was supposed to mow the little patch of lawn in the front and side yard. But that deal was as clear as the shed ownership issue.

The grass stayed long, the mower, rake and shovel stayed homeless and then fall turned into winter.

I felt particularly bad about the little red lawn mower sitting out in the open exposed to the weather. Leaning against the house, I spied a rusty wheel barrow that had seen better days. Before the first snow fell I flipped the wheel barrow over and tucked the little red mower underneath. To make things cozy I also tucked in the gas can on the deck of the mower. I nestled the wheelbarrow, the mower and the gas up against the house with the rake and the shovel.

Then Mother Nature did her routine. The snow piled, the winds blew, winter roared and the little lawn tools just braved it out huddled all together.

The spring came.

The grass sprang forth and I appeared on the scene with no plan, no lawn service and no tenant expecting to mow.

I wondered out loud what chance I would have getting the little mower to start up.

I pulled the mower out from under the wheelbarrow. I brushed a years worth of leaves from the deck. I then shook the gas can a little and topped off the mower's tank.

The choke on the mower is broken so I wasn't sure if the engine was going to get enough gas to get the thing to start. I proceeded to tip the mower to its left, then I tipped it to the right. Next I tipped it forward, then backward.

And then I gave a huge yank on the pull cord. Actually, I yanked on it for a half hour or so. And then on one lucky yank, a sputter, then a whirl, next a backfire, and suddenly,

was in business.

Well, that was over three months ago. During those three months I've never pulled the spark plug. I've never bought gas for the thing, never cleaned its filter, never changed its oil. I'm living on borrowed mower time and the living is summer time easy.

I approach each mow as though it was the little red mower and my last mow together. I move quickly across the yard because I know that if we stop, we may stop for good. People asking directions from me get the brush off. Once I'm started, I've got to keep on mowing.

I have to admit that I've taken to sweet talking the little red mower. We have long conversations each time I go to start her up. And I'll admit further that I've made some promises to the old gal (shed, tune-up, new spark plug) which I've not yet kept.

I have to think the mower knows I helped get it through the winter and that maybe, just maybe, I'll figure out my own shed issues and find everyone a real home before the snow flies.