A wheel is on the mower

Okay, fellow former snow shovellers, yesterday we mowed the dandelion-infested overgrown yard, trailing 200 feet of cord behind us. Going around trees is so much fun . . . And then the dog biting at the wheels. Hey, I haven’t run over a Wubba in I don’t know how long. The yard was overgrown because when I went out to mow a week ago, a wheel fell off.

I sweat through my underwear, didn’t realize it and then sat inside wondering why I felt chilled. The day was okay – I was a little less so, not thinking really wisely. I read a book, rather than showering, which would have warmed me up and, gee, made me less smelly. The book was okay, just a 99 cent baby written a long time ago and revived for epublishing. I imagine the author could have edited the TV and movie references to some time later than the “70’s, but, hey, maybe it’s his estate that is publishing it. Yes, it made me feel old, but if the truth requires sensible shoes, so be it.

I mentioned dandelions; I have been going on about them for years. I understand that they have many uses and, yes, yellow is cheerful, but it’s become a tradition and that means I must at least refer to the rants of the past.