I dislike landmowers. There, I've said it.
I enjoy a well manicured lawn as well as the next person. It's beautiful to see a big yard beautifully mown and watered. But the noise they make is a price too high to pay I think.
I remember many years ago when my grandfather mowed his lawn using a small push mover with double blades that spun around when the wheels turned. It was hard work and it took a long time. I think most people took care of their lawns the same way and because it was so much work and so time-consuming, lawns were generally more ragged and longer than the ones we see now. Today, with gas-powered mowers, some a big as a small room, the job is done more quickly and easily and everyone seems to want a lawn that looks like Yankee Stadium.
Across the street from my house is a village green. When the team of landscapers arrive I know I can count on at least thirty minutes of non-stop noise, sometimes loud enough to make it difficult to talk on the phone or have a conversation in the house. With the windows opened, which they are all summer in our non-air-conditioned home, it means an assault on the peace and quiet of our little world. Between the traffic, the airplanes, and the lawnmowers and weed-eaters, sometimes I think I'm going mad.
Thankfully my husband does not fall into the category of men who want perfect lawns. Once it gets long enough to look scraggly, he'll go out and mow. Trimming is another matter all together. Thank goodness.