The grass is high. Tractor tire is flat. Still. Two out of three lawn tractors are down. I have not been able to get the repairman out because all of them have the unmitigated gall to want to work “regular” hours—you know, the ones when I’m trying cases?
MIL has offered (repeatedly) to be the point person on this repair gig, but I hate to put that on her. I might just yet, but am going to give the next week a chance to be reasonable with its demands on me. We’ll see.
I was so looking forward to Saturday so that I could mow myself silly. Believe me, there is enough grass to make me silly! Instead of a good, early start, I opened my eyes to a ringing phone at 8:04 this morning. It was MIL wondering if I’m okay because she hadn’t heard from me. For me to sleep this late is unheard of. I must have been exhausted.
I dragged myself to the coffeepot and just as I sat down for a cup, Son called. He was on his way to the airport for his return trip home. He’s spent a week in New Jersey at the Tom Brown, Jr. Tracking School, his second stint there. I’m sure he will be worthy of a James Fenimore Cooper Leatherstocking label soon. This is my favorite picture of him in his “debris hut,” built in our woods. I’m tellin’ ya, if you’re stuck in the wilderness, this is the guy you want to be with!
He was full of stories and news and worries about the massive oil slick. I’m worried about it, too. I don’t think we’ve seen any clue of the ramifications of this spewing. He talked and talked, and I let him, so much have I missed his voice after a week!
Anyway, it was 10:30 before I got out there with my trusty can of Fix-A-Flat to cure the flat tire on our one working machine. MIL and I confidently went forward with the operation, and I could not—for the life of me—get the stuff to go into the tire rather than spilling out to the sides. I was just about to despair when that can and I finally “clicked.” I learned you must listen for the can to “hiss” before it’s properly connected.
My Belgian Malinois has been at it again. I had left a medicine bottle with a few prescription pills in it on the breakfast room table. When I came in to make coffee this morning, the empty bottle, capless, was in the floor. Some of you may recall that this is not Chili’s first foray into drug abuse. I told you about in this post.
Since this had to have happened yesterday and he seemed fine, I stifled my panicked impulse to call the vet. And, yes, after most of today has gone by, he still seems fine. Oh, well.
This seems like such a mundane post. But, it’s just what I’m feeling like writing for now…will visit many of you to see how your Saturday went!
I will mention a new blog I am excited about. It is the Southeastern Council on Family Relations blog—yes, I know', it is a professional blog, a bit different than those we are accustomed to. I belong to this organization because I love the information they give folks like me who are interested in trends and the “whys” of family relationships. I loved the initial post to which the link above will take you to on expectations in marriage. As one who deals in the break-up of marriages, I think it is spot-on: when it comes down to it, marriage is about commitment, period.
Besides, you might want to check out the blog because yours truly has the third post—one previously posted here.
Have a great weekend! C