Today, We Tackle

the lawn. Landlord came over last night to look at my oven and forgot his electric thingamajiggy to figure out if the current is still there or broken. He asked about the yard and if I was able to get into the shed, and I led him to it, keeping care to not step in any boxer dog-poop (it's a bit of a feat, really). I showed him the hole in the roof, which he didn't know about and is going to fix, and then we got out the "brand new" lawnmower. Landlord showed me how to prime it ("press this button 3 times") and how to pull on the cord, and blue smoke shot out from the side, and the lawnmower died. Landlord tried five more times before deciding to take the lawnmower home with him and fix it. He is supposed to come back today to look at the oven again and give me my lawnmower. As today is the last nice day of the week, my neighbor's friends still haven't bothered to come over and we're running out of time. So screw them, I'm going to do it myself. But it wouldn't surprise me if the landlord brought it back completely empty of gas. After all, buying the gas is my responsibility, and apparently so is getting the gas can. Bull honky, I say, and told him as such. I can get the gas, but he should provide the can. Wal Mart and every other place is on the other side of town so it'll take me a half-hour just to get that, then get the gas. Hopefully he'll get me a new oven soon so I can make those cookies.