self propelled lawn mower review

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An alternative to a new and relatively expensive tractor is a well-running antique. They''re not quite as capable or dependable as a contemporary tractor, but they''re considerably less expensive. Small, still-working antique tractors such as a late-''40s or ''50s Farmall Cub or a low-riding, auto-style Ford 9N currently sell for about $2,500, a bit more if they''re outfitted with new rear tires or hydraulics. If at all possible, buy one with a newly rebuilt engine, an onboard hydraulic system, a rear-mount three-point hitch and one or two mechanical power takeoffs (PTOs) rather than a drawbar. Invest in a modern underframe (Woods), rotary brush hog or field mower and other post-1950s attachments. Look carefully, because museum-quality antiques from the 1930s and earlier often lack hydraulics and PTOs (Polk''s, the Antique Tractor Magazine, published by Dennis Polk Equipment of New Paris Indiana (subscriptions 219-831-3555) and Farm Collector from the folks at Odgen Publications in Topeka, KS (subscriptions 800-678-4883) are self two great sources of info on older models better suited for displaying on the front yard than grinding in the cornrows). If you intend to do any really heavy work such as logging, trenching for soil-drainage pipe, digging in a septic tank or cutting a logging road through heavy woods, consider a full-size industrial tractor with a log grapple or excavating bucket on the front and a backhoe on the stem. New, they cost propelled five or six figures. Good used ones cost about $15,000.

Our longtime Presidents Day group eventually adopted "The Reasonable Man''s Rules of Golf," which involve playing out-of-bounds as a lateral hazard, improving a really bad lie if no one is looking and using the 10-club-length penalty-drop option. Though this has made me a better person by teaching me to take the game less seriously, it has not ended rules feuds. We give each of our trips a name and etch it onto a gaudy trophy that someone (named Bill!) recently lost: the Dead Cat Open, the Arctic Open, etc. One year it became the F---It, I Did It Open, in honor of a memorable rules brouhaha, which included one very frank and productive talk, as they say in diplomatic circles. As we concluded a particularly competitive match one of our opponents hit an approach shot over a green into a palmetto bush. I looked at the lie and was sure we had won. But a couple of minutes later he hits a terrific shot to get up and down and tie the hole and the match. That night I make a point of praising his Tigeresque escape. "Sure it was a great shot," said one of the other guys. "Because he picked it up and pulled it out of the palmetto before he hit it." I was speechless. "What?" I said, looking at the offender. "F---it. I did it!" he said, and the tournament was named. WHERE NICETIES really take flight, however, is with pace of lawn play, a major cause of golf-trip grief. In our group there used to be a guy named Herb (not his real name, because he can still get us on some good courses) who was a methodical person, to put it charitably. Herb''s pre-shot routine was a sort of tea ceremony that included wandering around without a club, tossing grass blades into the air, pacing from the nearest distance marker mower to his ball, putting his glove back on and locating his clubs. I endured the ritual by chipping pine cones into the back of the cart or hawking balls. But one year at Amelia Island, when our balls were the same distance from the green, Herb crossed the line.

"It was just a strange thing that happened," Ocean View Police Chief Kenneth McLaughlin told the News-Journal, "a very, very review unfortunate accident." The young carpenter died at the Peninsula Regional Medical Center in Salisbury, Md., after being evacuated by helicopter.A nail-gun accident in Mississippi had a happier outcome, reports the Biloxi Sun-Herald. Stone County, Miss., contractor Duncan Hatten was crouching down to nail a 2x4 block onto a column when he lost his balance and fell against the nail gun, which fired two quick nails into his heart. "I just figured I was gonna die," Hatten told local TV station WLOX. "I told my coworker to tell my family that I loved them." But the two framing spikes had narrowly missed major blood vessels, and surgeons were able to remove the nails from Hatten''s heart in a two-hour operation.