Saturday, April 14, 2012

Swearing Saint

I've spent a lot of time today cussing machines. My lawnmower is having issues, the tiller's on the blink, Jilda's car needs work, and my truck grinds like it's eaten a bad burrito every time I shift gears.
All these machines have served me well through the years, but it's almost as if Ingrid, Jilda's Volvo, started a nuts & bolts revolution. I can see the picture in my head -- while sitting around a campfire drinking wine, smoking pot, and telling human jokes, she said -- Hey! I've got a great idea. Let's all quit working at the same time.
I've replaced all the parts in the fuel system of my lawnmower, except the carburator, and it still coughs and sputters, like it has a lung infection.
To fix the tiller, I have to completely disassemble it, to replace a pin not much bigger than a swollen thumbnail.
I don't want to even discuss Ingrid. The tax refund that we thought we might use to take a trip, will go to our mechanic, who will now be able to travel at our expense.
It's enough to make a saint swear.  


  1. At least you'll still have time to write :)

  2. It does seem it all goes at once for sure. Usually starts with a car for us.

  3. My Sister always says she wants to head to the street corner and throw any extra cash she might get into the wind because there's always someone or something that will take it as soon as she gets it! I hate when everything here has a suicide pact...

  4. It's a plot, I tell you. An evil plot...

  5. You sound like my husband! lol Hey are you a saint? sandie


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