Some people love spring because of the splash of color it brings to the landscape.

I love flowers, too, but am sorely lacking a green thumb; however, I love spring because it means that I can mow the grass.

Silly, I know, but it’s the truth.

To me, the smell of freshly cut grass is that of just-sliced watermelons. That’s one of the reasons I love to mow the grass – on a riding mower, mind you. None of that push mower stuff at our house.

And, I’ve always loved jobs that give one instant gratification.

I don’t mind doing windows. Streaks and grime disappear with the sweep of a rag. Straightening the house doesn’t bother me a bit. You can see the results as you go.

I don’t mind sweeping the floor, but that’s mainly because I can’t stand stuff on the bottom of my feet.

I hate doing laundry, but I do love mowing the grass.

One minute the grass is thick and long, the next, it’s gone, and in its place, a smooth, trimmed landscape.

I especially love being able to don a set of headphones and lose myself in the music. I get simple enjoyment out of loading my iPod, pulling on my sunglasses, putting my hair in a ponytail and hitting the yard.

With all that said, I’m ashamed to admit that my yard looks like a hayfield that was doused in fertilizer before the last good rain. It’s thick, green with these weird little purple flowers growing in it. It looks atrocious.

Two weekends ago, I had every intention of getting out there and taking care of business. Did all the things to get ready, grabbed the key and headed out to the backyard. With a twist of the wrist, I flipped the key. “Whaa., whaa,” then, nothing. Dead battery.

Then, it got worse. A closer inspection revealed two flat tires. And wouldn’t you know it, I owned neither a battery charger nor a compressor to air up the tires.

When I complained, my mother commented it was one of the pitfalls of homeownership. I retorted it was also a side effect of having a Dad who lived in Heaven, and she needed to go get me a step-dad who owned things like air compressors and battery chargers.

Since that didn’t work, it took me another week to get to Walmart to buy the necessary equipment. Meanwhile, the grass looks so bad the neighbors asked if I needed help. Embarrassed, but touched they asked, I told them I was on it.

It took me another week to figure out that first, I had the wrong charger end on the battery and then once that was fixed, another day to determine that while the light said it wasn’t charged, it really was.

So I promise, this week, I’m really going to get out there and enjoy the beginning of my spring – just as soon as I air those tires and load up my iPod.