I decided to do that one big job I had scheduled for today before I blogged anything.  That may have been a huge mistake.  I’ve been putting off doing some repair work to my lawn tractor that  still refuses to start.  I knew it would be a frustration for me because I hate doing things mechanical.  The only mechanical person in my entire  family was my late father who maintained a large float-glass factory for PPG for more than forty years.  He knew everything about machines and he taught me only enough to get me into trouble.  He also over the years taught me how to really and truly cuss.  I was never aware of how many cuss words could be strung together until I worked with him on a few of his projects.

Pop was a professional  cusser and damn proud of it.  I ‘m more like him than I care to admit and if  today was any example I may be better now than he was then.  This effing tractor is driving me insane.  I  was tempted today to just drive it out into the middle of the back yard, douse it with gasoline, and a have a freaking bonfire.

After I thought about it a while I decided that doing that would then turn into something else entirely. With my luck some A-Hole from the town might ride by, check to see if I had a burn permit, and then call the cops when they found out I didn’t.  Then the cops would have appeared and issued me a citation which would have sent me right over the edge. That combined with my pissed off attitude over this tractor would have assured me of a ride to the county jail for some sort of disorderly conduct charge.  I know for a fact I’d have used a lot of those good old cuss words my father taught me and then the cop would have cuffed me and dragged me away.

If all that had actually occurred it would have cost me a few hundred dollars in fines, a few hours in the jail, and a somewhat questionable relationship with the local police.  Then I would have come home and the real punishment would have started.  I’d have heard each and every one of my father’s favorite cuss words all over again from my petit but really loud better-half. Nothing on earth is worth sitting through that tirade.

With my common sense keeping me from a trip to the jail I ended up saving a few hundred dollars today.  Now if I take that money and hire a real mechanic to fix this damn tractor I just might break even. 

It’s funny how things just keep snowballing along whether we like it or not.