We do not sing lullabies to your flowers, debate weed removal strategies or suggest a trendy rock garden. We just mow. Blades spinning, grass flying, lawn looking like a fine day at the sasquatch's barbershop!
We don’t give weeds a second chances, debate their decorative potential, or let them overstay their welcome. We wackem. Motors howling, stalks falling, edges looking like a Sasquatch finally got his ear hair tamed!
We don’t rake leaves, haul mulch, or give motivational pep talks to struggling gardens. We just don’t. Sasquatch's large hands are made for chaos, not meticulous yard work. One wild swing of the rake, and he might retreat to the shadows of the northwest's tallest trees!
We do not work in heavy rain, extreme heat, or snow. When Sasquatch gets soaked, his fur emits an unpleasant odor, and no amount of fresh air will remedy that. The heat turns him into a furnace, and on snow days, he categorically refuses to work because he is committed to making snowmen instead.
You might spot Grasskwach mowing his usual stretch of a mile from the Guemes Island Community Center to Schoolhouse Park.
Feel free to admire from a safe distance, but don’t interrupt. A focused Sasquatch mows. A disturbed Sasquatch..?
That beast really likes cutting grass!
Grasskwach’s mission to mow comes with unexpected adventures when his tractor is swallowed whole by a zero—yes, a-zero-of a road shoulder on Eden's Road, Guemes Island. One second, smooth mowing, grass flying. The next? A dramatic plunge into the void. With the help of a fellow islander (and some sheer willpower), they wrestled his tractor free, shook off the betrayal of the terrain, and Grasskwach's got back to doing what he does best—MOWING.
Because grass doesn’t take breaks, doesn’t show mercy, and certainly doesn’t care if Grasskwach's just had a dramatic tractor rescue—it keeps growing, mocking him, daring him to pick up where he left off!