Morning of March 17, 2017. Friday.
I am living in an unknown residence. My mother (July 14, 1916-October 2, 2002) is still alive, appearing as she was in perhaps the early 1970s. I am aware that an unfamiliar male seems to be cutting grass right across the threshold of the front doorway (from left to right from the inside view). The door is open. He is using some sort of small tool. Apparently, he had already cut most of the lawn. He is the landlord of this unfamiliar home. Still, I am mostly aware of my present family status but I am not sure of where the location is or is implied to be.
I am annoyed at his imposition and complain about what he has been doing. I tell him that I do not mind that he has mowed the yard but I do not like him being in the doorway. He seems somewhat offended and impatient.
I look out and see that he had mowed our yard so low that only the "ground" is left. The "ground" is a series of large sheets of plywood. I do not even consider that large sheets of plywood being the ground (with nothing underneath other than perhaps a void or at least empty space for whatever distance) is an erroneous concept. I assume that the grass will grow back later on so that the yard will look normal again.
I tell him to leave and that I will finish whatever work needs to be done. I sit on my knees just outside the doorway and someone hands me a special tool which resembles a latch hook (craft tool) that is designed to pull small sections of grass from the rubber mat that is near our doorway (mostly on the outside). There is only one straight line of grass (adjacent to the threshold) across the mat. Each small clump of grass comes out, leaving a small circular hole in the rubber mat for each. When I get almost as far left as possible, I accidentally tear the mat beyond where the small hole should be. I feel a bit guilty about this as it is a new mat my mother had just bought.