Next time I see this, this beauty will be mine. My brother traded five comic books for three of these sweet lawnmowers. A step back to a quieter time. I wish we had had a recording device with us when he first showed me all three on his front lawn because each of the roller mowers had their own throaty sound. I think my red number carried the alto-tenor range.
I could have it with me right now, but at the time could not figure out a way to haul it 221 miles back to my own house. Getting it back home will be an adventure someday.
I like adventure.
(literary proof I like adventure)
( more proof )
Hewhotrades and I like adventure and old stuff. If I trade my 1943 Red Deer wall calendar for a tank of gas in someone’s pickup truck (by the way, did you know back in 1920 in Britain petrol was sold by chemists in tins?) perhaps I can find a way to get my push mower back home.
Here is some grass that is going to need mowing. It isn’t mine. The photo isn’t mine either, except it was taken by my camera, which means I retain 2/5ths ownership.
And then this is the inside of the first chapter book I ever read silently to myself when I was seven. I own 5/5ths of the book. A neighbor down river from my childhood home gave my siblings and me hardcover books from her older childrens’ library. Over the years in all the trading that’s gone on within my family circle, this is one Old Stuff I won’t part with. It’s how my love for adventure began. It’s what convinced my oldest brother and me, back in the day, to hang our second brother (Hewhotrades) (fka: Hewhodanglesoverthedam) over the edge of a dam to retreive ducks sucked up against the headgates.