Reframing

I started this post earlier, but it was needlessly angry. I like this draft better.

——

Mrs. Mack505 and I are just back from a relaxing weekend away in the mountains. We came home to find that Kiddo had cleaned the house in our absence. All the animals remain healthy, and all was generally well.

Then I attempted one simple chore, and it all fell apart.

The riding lawnmower found a trash bag (?!) under some leaves, and it jammed. My utility knife went missing. I don’t have the one socket I need to remove the blades. . .

Just like that, the evening was ruined. I was ANGRY. The old shell game had returned. Can’t do one simple chore without sixteen other things getting in the way.

So. . .

I took the Ural to the store. It ran great. They had the tool I needed. Dusk fell rapidly, but now I have an excuse to take the bike to the shop tomorrow for new lawnmower blades.

I cracked a beer and fired up YouTube. Sammie joined me in the chair. A few quick shots of the Hydraulic Press Channel (Vat de fook?!) and On Yer Bike! (You’ve been told. . .) cured the evening.

The yard will be waiting in the morning.

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