There are not many occasions left in one’s busy life that a person has a chance to be alone with their thoughts. Which could be a good thing I guess, because being alone with ones thoughts can often be worrisome.

If there’s an activity that I do on a regular basis that leaves me alone with just my thoughts, cutting the grass would be among them. My yard is not huge, but then again it is not small. I actually have my two areas I mow, the regular yard around the house and around the lower garden and along the driveway — which I mow weekly.

Above my house is another area around my upper garden, which I mow about every two weeks depending upon the amount of rain and growth that occurs between the mowings. It takes me about an hour and half to mow the normal yard and two hours when I mow everything. That’s a lot of time to be alone with one’s thoughts.

What do you think about when you mow? Do you even do the mowing at your house? I have an old, heavy Roof walk behind mower and daughters, so it’s a man’s job at my house.

I mowed last Saturday, and because I have this thing about mowing the grass when it’s wet I waited until early afternoon for it to dry before I started. If you remember last Saturday it was hot and hazy with poor air quality and high ozone levels. I recall this because while I was mowing I was remembering something I once read that if you needed to mow you should wait until later in the evening after ozone levels have dropped.

That would have been the environmentally friendly thing to do, but I wanted to get my mowing done, so in the evening — when the air quality was better — I could go running. The day before I ran in the morning and all through my run I could sense a copper metallic taste in my mouth, which I’ve learned is how ozone tastes when levels are high.

I thought about Al Gore and my carbon footprint and how things look good on paper, but in reality you just have to mow when the grass is dry and when you have time. I thought about what kind of shape this country would be in if he had won the presidency back in 2000. Could one man make a difference, or would things be pretty much the same with just someone different to blame?

I thought about my daughters when I mowed, one going off to college in the next four weeks and the other becoming sister-less for the first time in her life. How will they adjust to their new roles, one starting all over again with her education and one becoming like an only child.

I thought about boys. What father with daughters doesn’t think about boys? I have been lucky that I have liked the boys my oldest daughter has dated, but what type of young man will she run into at college? And how long can I use the line, “You’re too young too date” on my youngest daughter — will she buy it until she is 21?

Do my daughters realize when a boy comes to the house and they introduce him to me and I shake their hand I’m sizing them up. Do they know that in a split second I’m evaluating their character, determining their intentions, and deciding whether or not I can take them in a fair fight or would I need to use a baseball bat to defend my daughter’s virtue. I think of these things while mowing.

Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t condone violence, and the baseball bat might be a bit of an exaggeration, but if you are a father with daughters you will understand fully what I’m talking about. But if you are a father with boys, then the bat is as real as the mower I am pushing. If the truth were known, so far there has only been one boy that has shown up on my doorstep that would have required the help of a Louisville Slugger, but he never gave me any reason to reach for it. Why do I think of these things while mowing?

I don’t always let my mind wander to my daughters when I mow, sometimes I think about bees. This usually occurs right after I run over a ground nest of yellow jackets and get stung on the leg. Last week I found three ground nests while mowing, and unfortunately the last one found me first. For some reason yellow jackets like to sting you in the area of the leg just above the socks.

The only other activity I do that leaves me alone with my thoughts is running. I don’t run listening to music because I’m out there to run not listen to music. Besides, I run on the road and I need to be able to hear the sounds of little old ladies in Buicks and redneck boys in Ford trucks trying to run me down.

When I run, I don’t usually think about my daughters’ future or other worldly problems — like what in the world am I going to write about this week for the SMN. I’m too busy analyzing what my body is trying to tell me. “Why is that calf muscle sore? What’s with this knee? Is that a port-a-john up ahead? Why am I slowing down?” And to the young man who passes me like I’m standing still, “Right, show up at my house ya young punk and I have a baseball bat with your name on it.”

(When David Curtis is not in deep thought he can be found teaching middle school in Haywood County. He can be reached at dcurtis@haywood.k12.nc.us.)