I’m surprised; I’m not angry. No venom is dripping from my little fanglet teeth. This is very unusual. Almost scary.
I have not looked at any site on the internet today. Nada. Zilcho. I have been busy . . . and things happened.
I thought I would blog soon after I got home and showered; however, there is this advice to not blog angry. Maybe that has stayed my outburst; maybe I am just building up for mega-outburst later tonight.
I have not had a good day. First thing in the morning one person two generations down from me makes a very unwise decision – a serious one. I don’t have to much time to brood over it because I have to go do ALL THIS MOWING and so I get ready. The car trip leaves time for stewing, however; rats, I should have remembered my ipod. Nothing like a rousing chorus of The Stein Song.
Okay, that part is over; the mowers are backed out and I start to fill them with gas. Guess what? I didn’t put the funnel in the car and I ran over the one that was already there a couple of months ago. (It was impressive.)
But, I have a steady hand for once and only a teeny bit of gas splashes – on me. I mow and mow and mow and mow and then BACKFIRE, QUIT. I’m way out to the north and look at the hike in and look at the mower and try to restart it. No. It’s not going to work. I hike.
On the other mower now, I take my time because it is the really good mower and even has a drink holder, out of which my drink fell, by the way.
Finally, I am almost done and drive the good mower into the shed and go on out to the mower which had a little problem that has happened before. It has always restarted after sitting for awhile. Not this time. And not the 20 times after my first try.
If I thought hiking in was a pain, I won’t go into detail about what I thought pushing it in was.
I think it out and plan my route and things work okay until I am almost there and I almost run into a tree because I am pushing it with my butt and legs.
I realign the wheels and resume pushing . . . only I am on a slight downward incline and I suddenly realize something on the mower has hooked onto the belt loop of my shorts. The mower starts moving faster.
I see myself slipping down and getting painfully and embarrassingly stuck. But I keep up and the mower slows as it scrapes a bush. Looking around quickly for witnesses, I unhook myself and nonchalantly push the mower into the shed. I lock it in. I leave.
Eventually I pull into the driveway and am met at the door by Someone bemoaning the fact that the game she ordered will not play with her new 3-D nintendo.
I am carrying groceries when I am met and I am still carrying all of them when I get to the counter because Someonecan’t lament and help at the same time.
I sigh.
The phone rings.
I get yelled at and hung up on.
I stay calm and put everything away, start a wash and shower.
Which brings me to this post here . . . but not quite yet. After I turned the laptop on, I read this message: None of your networks are available.
Then one came up and here I sit relaying my experience and wondering if I will now read or cut out voodoo dolls.