Last year we invested in a robot lawnmower. I have to admit I wasn’t initially certain that outsourcing the mowing to a robot was a wise investment, but then again, I am not the one who has to mow every week (back problems gets you out of that permanently).
We named him Oy, after the Billy Bumbler in Stephen King’s The Dark Tower, because… well… he needed a name and he’s kind of like a dog. It’s almost like he craves human interaction.
You will be both thankful and disappointed there are no specific photos for this blog post.
I’ve mentioned mowing in previous blogs, Austrians’ need for a perfectly manicured lawn and their penchant for mowing around the flowers. But I have forgotten to mention one detail so far. There seems to be a kind of mowing ‘uniform’ in Austria… and it’s… bathers. Continue reading →
Austrians are pedantic about lawn mowing. Their lawns must be perfect, mown weekly, shorn to an exacting length. I’m quite sure there are fines issued if you breach lawn mowing rules, or at least a disapproving neighbourly glare! Each garden boasts a lush lime carpet of soft grass, devoid of weeds or lumps and bumps. And while I don’t think I’d have the patience to maintain such perfection, it certainly looks amazing, and feels warm and spongy on bare feet in the summer – a huge contrast to the brown-tinged, prickly lawn I grew up with (because there’s a drought, people).