Last week, I fixed my chainsaw by fixing a carburetor that didn’t need fixing, so this week I decided to level up by fixing a truly broken carburetor on an old push lawnmower. Sounds simple, but add in a five year old orbiting, playing with your tools, while you’re trying to fiddle with tiny screws and delicate linkages, and it is the equivalent of a psychological experiment.
“Dad, I’m going to hammer some nails.”
“Great.”
“Dad, can I play with this spark plug?”
“No.”
“Dad, we need to put some gas in the tank?
“No we don’t.”
“Dad, I’m going to pull this rope” [pulls starter rope]
“Stop!”
The good news is I got the new carburetor on and the lawnmower running again. The bad news is I apparently mixed up the two linkages on the throttle, so the lawn mower was surging. I am not sure why I was even trying to fix this old lawn mower–maybe for nostalgia’s sake?–as it had been sitting in the barn unused for ten years or more, in the same place it’s been since it quit running. When Natalie and I first started renting the old farmhouse from her grandparents, I actually pushed our yard because we couldn’t afford a riding lawn mower. Back then, Fitbits and fitness trackers weren’t really a thing yet, but I’d love to know how many steps I took on a weekly basis cutting grass. All I know is I look a lot slimmer in pictures from that time.
“Dad, why does it sound funny?”
“I don’t know. I think I did something wrong.”
“Why did you do something wrong?
“That is a good question.”
“Well, how do you fix it?”
“That’s another good question.”
Of course, I had to take the new carburetor all the way back off, but Thomas came in handy this go round as he was able to find a tiny screw I dropped in the grass. Once we got the carburetor back on with linkages connected correctly, the lawnmower revved and ran like old times.
“Dad, can I push it?
“Maybe one day,” I said, “maybe one day.”
We have one of those manual no engine push mowers that Peter pushes around the yard. He thinks it’s a game. We encourage that mentality.
A wise approach!
Kudos to you for getting it running and kudos to your son for helping.
It reminds me of the challenge my husband has set himself to repair an old rototiller of my dad’s. Dad died in 2002, but he was always keen gardener, and he and Mom kept us three kids fed with vegetables raised and canned from his plots.
When we moved in 2024, my stepsister asked if I wanted the tiller. Since he had Alzheimer’s and hadn’t gardened for many years, the existence of it was news to me, and I’ve no idea how she ended up with it.
My husband found a manual for it online, dated from the 70s. He’s managed to get it running, but it still leaks oil and is missing the stick thingamabob that keeps it in control. Still, The Engineer is very tenacious and inventive so perhaps we’ll someday be able to use it.
Do you think it’s an unwillingness to be defeated by something you think you can fix? Or maybe a reluctance to get rid of part of the past?
That is a good question. I think probably a little of both. I’ve always been a sucker for holding on to stuff for sentimentality’s sake–my wife says I’m a borderline hoarder, though I think I’ve got a little better at getting rid of stuff that is broken beyond repair.
We have old home movies of my brother – at the age of six!!! wrestling with the old Gravely tractor to mow the lawn! The handles were even with his shoulders – and his ropy little muscles were bulging. No way I – his older sister – was even a little tempted.
It must be a guy thing, lol. Thomas, who is five, loves to help me cut the grass, often riding with me on the zero turn.