Mowgirl Lawn Care

05/15/2025

GUESS WHAT? I’ve had yet another adventure! It wasn’t a hiking excursion, as you all may have presumed. It’s a BOOK! I WROTE A BOOK! Entitled, “Three-Quarters Dead,” both the e-book and paperback version are available on Amazon, and around the world. Learn more about this literary masterpiece at LisaALarsen.com. And join me on my new FB page, devoted entirely to “Three-Quarters Dead.”
https://www.facebook.com/lisaalarsen.author
Come on, gang! Let’s head over to my new digs...

https://a.co/d/d6k673G

Introducing Lisa Larsen's not yet , . A short but powerful blend of wit, wisdom and whimsy, Larsen shares her life experiences--some hilarious, some heartbreaking, as she navigates the ubiquitous struggles of child rearing (six of ‘em), defective families, fading parents, lifeless b***s, yell...

09/12/2019

This story is about a blower...an old but faithful Echo 755ST. I love this thing. But the hoses were falling apart. I've used the magic fix as much as I could--duct tape that is. But even the tape is frayed and falling off, leaving a sticky gooey mess where grass and dirt lodge themselves permanently. So I did some research to find the hoses I need. I searched high and low...it's an old blower, man. They don't make 'em like that anymore. Finding parts is a bitch. But I finally found what I needed on Ebay. It wasn't cheap but I ordered two hoses for the blower and awaited their arrival with hopeful anticipation. I waited a week. I waited another week. Realizing delivery might take several years, I tried more repairs to hold the hoses in place. At one point I thought I had it. The hose was wrapped in tape, looking like a broken leg that had just been put in a cast. Despite its odd appearance, It directed the air perfectly and I was thinking of canceling my eBay order (the one that seemingly was never coming).

The heat of the afternoon cranked up one day, however, and melted the duct tape. I grabbed the blower to use on my last job of the day, fired her up and heaved it onto my back. I strode confidently up and down the parking lot I was cleaning, blowing away leaves and sticks and clippings. I hummed a tune, thinking of the frosty ice coffee I was going to have when I got home. And in this dream-state the unthinkable happened. The sticky duct tape finally let go. The blower tube suddenly popped off, but not completely (due to the magic fix), and hung like a wet noodle, blowing air everywhere but down. Crap...

Well the new hoses finally arrived. They fit perfectly and I was ecstatic. My blower was up and running like a champ! It was then that I decided I needed a blower rack for my trailer--a device which allows the user to hang the blower in the rack, attach the hose to a clamp, and drive away. Back on my laptop, I searched and found what I needed and ordered it. Thankfully the blower rack arrived quickly. I mounted it, hung my blower on it with its gleaming new hoses, and drove off to work--proud and satisfied.

The blower was like new now. I was happy. My crew was happy. Weeks passed and all was well in Mowgirl’s world. BUT…and here’s the killer, after a long humid day of work I parked my trailer at the last job and went to get the blower out of the rack to blow off a sidewalk. It was then I noticed something terrible. The two hoses were no longer attached to the machine! I searched the trailer frantically hoping the tubes were tucked away beneath gear. But no luck. The freakin hoses had blown off! The blower rack had failed me, and my beloved hoses were lying in the road somewhere.

So, what did I do? I did what any cheapskate business owner would do—drove around retracing my route searching for the hoses. I immediately saw a black cylindrical shape in the middle of the road. I stomped on the brakes, dodged traffic and madly grabbed the object. It was a roll of 33-gallon trash bags. Crap…

Then I saw a black object off the shoulder of another road I was searching. I screeched to a halt, jumped out of the car and grabbed it…a shredded piece of a tire was all it was. Crap…This kind of insane searching went on for a week. How cheap am I??? The end of the story is I never found the hoses. And now I’m waiting, and waiting for another order of them to come in. I curse my blower rack every morning. And I can’t stop scanning the roads for the missing tubes…it has become an obsession. So, if you come across a blower hose on US1 or A1A, it’s mine. Sell it on eBay…I’ll probably be the one to buy it!

03/17/2019

I WANT YOUR MUG...But I am NOT a Thief!
By Lisa Larsen

Let me preface this post by emphatically claiming I am not a thief. Yes, I took a mannequin leg from a women’s stocking display in Dillards years ago…it was a great discussion piece in my living room. And yes, I recall taking a hand off another mannequin in Macy’s and using it to freak people out by placing it on their desks or on their car seats or in their refrigerators. And probably I took a giant acorn, painted gold, from a Christmas display once—the thing was as big as a baby’s head. I mean, who wouldn’t want one of those perched on their bookcase? I might have stuffed a fishing rod down my pant leg when I was a teen, then ambled stiff-legged out of the department store and headed to the town’s only fishing hole. But none of this was really thievery. Right? It was just innocent fun. So I repeat, I am not a thief.

With that fact established, I have a funny story to share. I had been working on a large landscape project in Cocoa Beach for several weeks. My client was remodeling some old apartments and turning them into vacation rentals. I had to do a complete property clean up, then install irrigation, pavers, decorative stone and plants. I worked like a fiend in order to meet my deadline. I wanted to show my client my amazing and varied skill set in hopes of getting hired for more jobs on his other properties.

It was an unusually hot February morning and although all the rental units were not ready for guests, a couple had been completed and were rented out. I walked to the back of the property where there was a spacious deck with chairs and tables scattered about. The ocean was right there—just a few hundred yards away. It was a beautiful and serene place and I loved working on the flower beds surrounding the deck.

I stopped to stare at the ocean for a moment and something colorful caught my eye. It was a row of five pastel-colored thermal mugs, sitting in a neat line on one of the railings that surrounded the deck. I walked over to the mugs and noticed they had names engraved on them. How curious, I mused. One of the mugs—an eggshell color—was engraved with my name! My client had purchased the mugs for all of us and had our names engraved on them! How thoughtful! What a wonderful way to acknowledge all our diligent and hard work, and recognize each one of us by name! I gently wrapped the mug that said “Lisa” and took it home.

The next morning, I arrived on the job site early and headed to the deck to water my new plants. There I met some lovely women from St. Louis. They were some of our first guests, renting one of the finished units. I sat and talked with them for a while. They were interested in renting a unit again next year and were inquisitive about the area. I rattled off a bunch of things they could do and see in Cocoa Beach, encouraging them to return.

As I prepared to head back to work one of the women asked me if I considered the area safe. She wanted to know about the establishment’s security and such.
“This area is very safe,” I assured her. “Why do you ask?”
She went on to explain that there had been five thermal mugs she had purchased for her friends and she had set them atop the rail to take a photo. She went inside for a few minutes and upon her return noticed, with dismay, one of the mugs had gone missing.

I was mortified…for the briefest of instances I considered lying. But I had no time. My face was burning red and I squirmed in my chair.
“I’m guessing someone here is named Lisa,” I stammered. All five of the women looked at me simultaneously, mouths agape.
“I am,” one of them blurted.
Our eyes met and I mumbled, “Me too.” As if that would explain everything…and of course it didn’t.
I shifted in my chair, frantically searching for a way out of this awkward mess. But there was none.
“I took the mug,” I stated. “I thought it was for me. I thought it was a gift from my boss.” There was silence for a moment, then the women started giggling. I was so relieved! They understood that I wasn’t a thief. It was an innocent mistake.

As the laughter petered out one of the women spoke up.
“No, but really. Why would anyone steal a mug with the name “Lisa” on it?”
I swallowed hard. This was crazy. They thought I was joking.
“I’m freaking Lisa! I took the mug. Honestly. I thought it was for me. It’s at home. I really took it. I’m serious!”
The laughter began again. I felt like I was trapped in the Twilight Zone. So I started describing the mug to them. I added every detail I could think of. It was eggshell-white. It was thermal. It had the name “Lisa” inscribed on it in a cursive typeface. The laughter stopped. Now I had their attention. I took advantage of the silence.
“I’ll bring it back tomorrow before you leave. I swear. I’m not a thief.”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Lisa said.
“Serious as a heart attack,” I answered.

Well, I gave the mug back, but not before filling it with Easter candy as an act of contrition. And no matter how embarrassing the whole mess was, I afelt privileged to have met five wonderful, kind and good-humored women from St. Louis. I was proud of myself for returning the mug, because as I said, I am not a thief. But to be honest, I still want it. And next year when these five great women return for a visit, it would be best for them to leave the mug behind, or lock it in a safe, or hide it under the bed. Things have a way of disappearing when I’m around. Nobody can explain it. It’s an enigma. An anomaly. One day we’ll figure it out. But for now I sit contentedly among my mannequin appendages, my fishing pole and oversized acorn, sipping coffee from an old beat up cup, dreaming of that lovely thermal mug with my name etched in it. Who knows? Even though I’m not a thief, maybe one day that mug will disappear again, and I’ll be lucky enough to “find” it. Possession is nine tenths of the law, right?

02/19/2019

The winter is slowly giving way to spring...and I'm not ready. When summer looms and the mowing season is about to kick in, I frantically rush about trying to finish long-neglected projects at home--projects for which I only have time when the bothersome oh-so-needy grass stops its constant whining and goes to sleep. I also slip into denial. I tell myself another cold front will come along and sweetly coax the dozing grass into deep slumber once again. I pretend I don't hear the songbirds that have recently returned from their vacations in the Bahamas and are ready to start pestering me at 5 AM each day. I turn my back on the sun who's been flexing her muscles, getting hotter week by week. And when the other lawn monkeys say dumb-witted things like "Well, summer's just around the corner," I gently punch them in the face hoping to silence the unwelcome truth. And sometimes I get so pi**ed off that I throw up a little....But none of my denial stops the undeniable fact that winter has packed her bags and is about to head to the more comfortable climes found in Maine and Canada and Alaska, and possibly Russia. Hey, I love my job, don't get me wrong. I just go through cool-weather withdrawals--a scene that is neither pretty nor enjoyable.No matter how hard I strive to remain in an ignorant state of bliss, summer always wins. So I dust off my sunscreen collection, clean out my water cooler, drag out my shorts and sleeveless shirts and stumble around crying for the next month or so. Then it's game on. I step into my big-girl-undies, grab a w**d eater and head out to tame nature for the next 7 months. But winter is always on the horizon, far off like a forgotten dream. Will it forsake me forever? It will not. In 7,200 hours and 23 minutes it will be winter once again. I can hardly wait!

08/11/2018

Although the posts I write are mostly humorous and witty, this one is not. This is serious. Due to an electrical anomaly my work shop burned to the ground August 6th. I lost everything inside the shop, as well as the entire structure. I had collected 20 years’ worth of tools—dozens of rechargeable tools, grinders, drills, saws, an air compressor, shop vac, two Craftsman tool chests and countless socket sets—all gone. My surfboards and electric scooter and family memorabilia all burned, as did our camp gear and luggage and a refrigerator full of food. I lost a chain saw, an edger and a w**d eater. My mower melted, my house melted, my swimming pool melted. And sadly, the hutch in which our two bunnies dwell caught fire. One of them escaped but the other was trapped and died. My family and I are still in shock. Our entire back yard is a sea of black ash, charred wood and melted plastic. We are grateful that no one was hurt, and that our house did not catch fire. But Mowgirl now has no shop in which to repair equipment and no tools for making those repairs. The task of cleaning up the massive mess and rebuilding, and then restocking my tools will take months. And thousands of dollars. All this is happening during my busy season—the time of year when we work ten-hour days six days a week, chasing lawn mowers around month after month. I am overwhelmed. My spirits are crushed. I need help…and that's exactly what I got from my children, who put together an incredible way to let people help from the comfort of their own home. Click the photo below for more details.

"My house melted...I am devastated. I am lost. How will I work on all my equipment? WHERE will I work on all my equipment? And my daughter's sweet little rabbit, with our family for ten years, burned to death." My mom, Lisa, wrote that in early August after an electrical fire destroyed her worksh...

08/07/2018

The BONUS Round

It’s the time of year when everyone seems to be on a prolonged vacation…kids are out jail, oops, I meant school, families are packing the car and taking adventurous road trips, snow birds are heading north (or west), surfers are tearing up the waves (not really…we don’ t have any) and the beach is a constant attraction to anyone who breathes.

But for those of us in the lawn care business, summer means something else—something not quite so pleasant. Something not so vacation-like. When summer begins for us, it’s like entering an evil Twilight Zone where the heat never wanes, the sun shoots laser rays, the rain leaves blankets of humidity and the grass mocks and jeers, haunting us even in our sleep. We awaken stiff and sore, parched still from the day before and shuffle to the coffee maker on feet that ache with every step. We look out the window to see how many inches the grass has grown overnight. We stare at the sky hoping for cloud cover and a cool breeze. Then we usually weep and struggle into our sweat and grass stained work clothes, defeated before the day has begun.

But for me, I try to look on the bright side. I search for that elusive silver lining amongst angry black clouds... to find ways to embrace the summer rather than reject it. I look for the BONUS! Here’s what gives this grass-cutting-gal hope during the seemingly endless Florida summer.

1. Summer is a great time to lose weight. I lose about 50 pounds of water weight every day. By five o’clock I’m a mere shell of a woman. I go home and consume as many calories as my body will accept. And if I don’t gain those 50 pounds back by 8:00 that evening, I go out and find ice cream. BONUS!
2. Another perk I get from cutting grass is a great tan. Not the salon type spray on tan. But the good old melanoma tan everyone envies. It’s the kind of tan that makes me look as if I’m an adopted mother during family gatherings—of a different race and from a different country. My kids look like alabaster manikins next to me. I can disown them at any moment and act like a stranger and it would be convincing even to them. BONUS!
3. Staying in shape is another benefit of doing lawn care. Each day is sort of like boot camp. I am pushed to my physical limits, driven by my commanding officer—General Grass. He’s a ruthless and formidable tyrant, screaming at me to go faster, stop sobbing, stay out of my customers’ pools, keep my sweat to a minimum, maintain a neat appearance beneath the grease and dirt and blood….General Grass sees to it that I remain physically fit all summer long. BONUS!
4. Lastly, the summer gives me license to bitch--to legitimately complain and belly ache about how hot it is, how dry it is, how wet it is, how long the grass is, how fast it’s growing, how tired I am, how sore my feet are…I’m not sitting in an air-conditioned office making these lengthy complaints. I’m out in it! I’m a participant in the Twilight Zone, and that gives me the right to gripe! How often does someone get to claim that? It’s invigorating! BONUS!

This Bonus Round is what keeps me going for the twelve months of Florida summer. And when the season changes (which it doesn’t) I’m a new woman. I wade through the clutter that has accumulated in my house for the past several months (we don’t clean in the Twilight Zone) and look for the life I once had in the good ole pre-summer days. I tend to my personal affairs, reacquaint myself with my family, tackle long overdue projects, go surfing, play tennis, get a pedicure (if I can find a brave enough technician who happens to have a blow torch and grinder on hand) and simply relax. I’ve exited the Twilight Zone at last…for a few months anyway. And the funny thing is after a week or two I’ll miss it. It will call to me in the winter months (all two of them) and I’ll quietly whisper “shut the crap up and leave me alone.” Which it won’t. BONUS!

08/07/2018

05/10/2018

Mowgirl Lawn Care was recognized for our conscientious treatment of our rivers and canals. KEEP OUR CANALS CLEAN!!!

02/21/2018

We've all waited long enough--here's the link to the online publication, "The Marker," in which Mowgirl Lawn Care is featured...http://conta.cc/2EC6kKC . The publication is a wonderful newsletter, full of information focusing on ways to save our lagoons, and our planet in general--recycling, reusing, repurposing, reducing...There are workshop postings and many opportunities for you to get involved, get educated and get off your bum 😁. Check it out. If we all do our part, the strides forward we can make are limitless!

02/02/2018

Mowgirl Lawn Care is being featured in the Indian River Lagoon Green Business publication this month! We are committed to preserving our rivers and lagoons by being mindful of our practices, on and off the job. A few simple tasks make a HUGE difference--things like keeping grass clippings off the streets and sidewalks, keeping storm drains clear, avoiding getting clippings or trimmings in the canals, keeping litter out of yard waste piles, recycling or reusing whenever possible...If everyone recognized the unique and delicate waterway system we have here in Brevard, lagoon life would be preserved forever! Be a champion and save our lagoons!

09/25/2017

Screw You Irma

Hurricane Irma you think you’re the boss
Of greedy destruction and terrible loss
I say to you Irma, you better think twice
Cuz here on the beach side we doesn’t play nice!

There remains all this beauty to witness each day
The ocean, the beaches the dolphins at play
The sunrise is stunning, the sunset burns red
Cicadas still chirp as we crawl into bed.

Some things about nature we can’t understand
Resilient and willful and scary and grand
Yet all us Floridians are really the same
We stand up and fight, without fear or shame.

So out of this wreckage that Irma has wrought
There rises a peace for all who have fought
The calm and the beauty of paradise sweet
Will always be near till we’re back on our feet!