Written Jul 17, 2025
Hello Dear Readers,
This morning, I did the unthinkable—I woke up an hour and a half before my alarm. Normally, that’s just a cue for my body to roll over and say, “Nice try.” But today? I actually stayed up. Why? Because the Tennessee sun had plans to scorch anything that dared move after 10 a.m.—and I had a date with a lawnmower.
I had a long to-do list of outdoor chores, and mowing the lawn was at the top. Doing it before the heat kicked in seemed like a genius move—until I remembered the potential wrath of sleepy neighbors. But here’s the twist: we own an electric mower. Whisper-quiet compared to the gas-powered roaring dinosaurs most people use. It’s practically the ninja of lawn care equipment.
By the time I tiptoed out with the mower, my wife had already checked off her own morning triumphs. She wakes up nearly two hours before I do (yes, voluntarily). She had exercised, completed her German lesson, and probably solved a few global crises before I even found my socks.
She once told me—back when I was recovering from my brain stroke—that the key to keeping up with life isn’t speed, it’s consistency. And that’s been our mantra ever since. I never used to be a morning person. I never used to have a schedule, either. But when life body-checks you, you either lie there… or you get up. Preferably early, before the sun decides to cook you.
Since then, I’ve gradually taken over more of the chores she used to shoulder alone. My wife has always juggled a full-time job and the never-ending circus act known as housework. Between trimming back Nashville’s botanical ambitions (Virginia creeper, anyone?) and trying to squeeze in a little reading or piano practice, she never really had much downtime.
She did worry a bit about whether the mower would wake the neighborhood. But honestly, it purrs more than it growls. Our block is so quiet, even her early-morning piano practice barely escapes the walls. And let’s be real—if someone’s running a 5K before sunrise, my little lawn session probably doesn’t register as noise pollution.
Turns out, she was right: people here are early risers. Fit, sun-loving, health-conscious neighbors who believe in happiness via cardio. No pitchforks or noise complaints yet—so I’ll take that as a win. And if I bump into anyone later today or tomorrow, I’ll do the neighborly thing and apologize just in case I mowed too close to their dreams.
And now? It’s not even noon, and I’ve already tackled my main task for the day. The lawn is trimmed, my conscience is clear, and the AC is calling my name. Morning chores: conquered. Productivity: unlocked. Neighbors: hopefully still friendly.