Of Mowers and Men

Countryside Column for 21 March

 Letting the grass grow under your feet

It’s the same every year.  The sun peeps out. The grass springs up. The mower is retrieved from the back of the shed.  You check the oil, add some petrol, and give the starting rope a long confident pull.  Nothing happens.  You push the choke fully on and tug again. Nothing.  You ease back on the throttle and … well you know the result. 

Shortly afterwards you are to be found at the service shop armed with your second mortgage and asking the nice man how long it’s likely to take.  And it’s always the same answer.  “Well, we’re really busy now.  The sun brings them all out. If you’d just brought it in a couple of months ago…”

Oh, come on! Who ever thinks of servicing their mower in January?

So this year I thought I’d circumvent all that.  My trusty old Stoic Landmaster that’s given sterling service for a quarter of a century was playing up last summer.  So I decided to grasp the nettle and go for a replacement. Google soon found the machine I wanted. The price was eye-watering, but then if (and I accept it’s a big IF) it lasts for 25 years, it will only cost a tad more than 50p a week. (Please don’t remind me that, for at least half the year, it will be doing absolutely nothing in the back of the shed.)

Since no local store sells it, I order online. Then I get the call. “Sorry it’s out of stock.  And the manufacturer says there’s a four week wait.” No problem there are other suppliers.  But it’s the same story. Out of stock. Month delay.  Minimum. (Please tell me how on earth can a mower manufacturer not have stock ready for the start of the mowing season!!!)

But the sun’s shining.  The grass is growing. The trusty Landmaster is retrieved from the shed. Levels are checked. A long, confident pull on the starting cord elicits …. nothing.

I know everyone is entitled to a living.  And I wouldn’t want to be a mower mechanic.  But really.  How can they sleep at night with their charges? If I’d had the Stoic serviced every year of its life I’d have paid seven times its purchase price.  But then I suppose if I’d had it serviced every year I wouldn’t be watching the grass grow, waiting for the distant call of the mower man.