A Deep Breath (#31)

Forgive me, dear reader, but this is a long post. It is also only slightly edited. However, it is an opportunity to tell a story. I won't improve unless I practice. 

By the way, I watched the Netflix adaptation of A Series of Unfortunate Events. It all began when my daughter, back when she was in elementary school, shared this video with me. Without having read the book series, or even knowing a single thing about it, I fell in love with the story. That's the power the video had over me. Funny how that works. She had already seen the series, but was willing to watch it again, this time with me. And, I am grateful we did. 
It was going to be a productive day. And it being a Monday, knocking off most of my to-do list would have set me up nicely for the rest of the week. I even got out of bed a good forty minutes before my alarm; started and completed my workout earlier than usual; dressed and out the back door, rummaging through the shed, ahead of schedule.

Sigh. It was too good to be true.

Spring began several weeks ago, and a heatwave has been predicted for this week. So, my yard needs some work, and that begins with a mowing. My shed is a mess (organizing it is on my list, but before I can start that, several other projects need to be completed). I stubbed my toes, scraped an elbow, and banged my head, but eventually dragged the gas mower out into the sunlight for the first time this year. Filled it with gas, thanking the universe that there was some left in the canister. A trip to the gas station was not in the cards, and would have thrown me off for the day. Don’t ask—I have issues. Checked the oil. Connected the spark plug. Covered my ears with headphones (not the kind that plays music, because I can’t listen to anything while I mow—again, I have issues). Then, I yanked at the cord to start everything up.

Ugh. The damn thing snapped.

But, no problem. It had begun to fray last year, so, at the time, I purchased a new one. Even thought of replacing it then. Procrastination got in the way. Of course, I would come to regret it. As for the present, all I had to do was brave the shed that had become a jungle. A few curses, some grunts, and it was in my hand. Although, I had done this before, I considered it prudent to visit a how-to video. Took my phone out. Scrolled through some sites. Found some rando lady on YouTube with a hundred subscribers. She gave great advice; I ruined it. Unfortunately, after spending ten minutes grabbing the correct toolbox from the mess that is my garage (another project, which requires other things to be completed), searching through a ziploc bag of socket wrench heads, testing for the correct size, finding the right width, but not the correct length (something about a sex joke), grumbling to myself, taking things apart, following the instructions, and making it one step from the end, something else breaks.

Shit. Another part snapped, and whatever it was, I did not have a replacement on hand.

It took me twenty minutes of disassembling and reassembling this one section, before I accepted it was broken beyond repair. I Googled, hoping to find the part available, and soon. Well, it would have helped if I knew its proper name. That took another search. Finally, I discovered that Amazon carried, and for under twenty dollars. In addition, it could be delivered tomorrow. Score. I would just have to accept postponing today’s projects. No big deal, right? After all, it is only one day.

[Damn. I am just now realizing that if I had ordered the part, it would not have arrived until tomorrow evening. And, so, today’s tasks would have had to wait two full days. Man, was I out of it. It is a good thing something else went wrong, rendering this mistake moot.]

What else could go wrong? While I was working on the mower, the smell of gas lingered about me, as if some of it had spilled on the body of the machine. Sure enough, there was a wet spot, beneath the air filter compartment. It was a slow, but steady drip. You know, ignorance is bliss, and a Googling can transform a crappy day into a shitty one. But, I am a curious fellow, and I need to know why things are happening.

Fuck. Gas leaking into the air filter compartment usually means a carburetor issue. Now, I am sure, if I sat down, watched some videos, read a few articles, had a full day, perhaps two, I could probably figure it out. There are people on YouTube who say it is easy. Plus, I would acquire new knowledge and skills. However, I have been down this way before. It could fill several posts. The road to hell may be paved with good intentions, but it is littered with Emergency DIY projects that have gone awry. Yet, I cannot wait to have it fixed by a professional.

What the fuck am I going to do? I need to start mowing, and soon.

Then, a question popped into my head--usually, that is what happens in these situations. How much is a battery-powered mower? The thought was not random. Recently, while helping a friend with his garden, I noticed him using an electric mower. It was so quiet, and light. There was no smell of gas, or a need to purchase and store it. No spark plug to replace. And ,that stupid starter cord, whose fragility was the root of my current situation? Unnecessary; therefore nonexistent.

And so, I stopped everything, and began researching battery-powered mowers. Lo and behold, my local Lowe’s sold my chosen model. Only, there were two left, and I could not leave just yet, because I had to wait until my wife left for the airport. While sitting around (all the other tasks on my to-do list required that I mow first), I got nervous, and kept checking the stock. On my third viewing, it said one left! However, a quick look at the delivery option informed me that I could have one delivered by tomorrow, if I ordered in the next five hours. Relief.

Well, my wife left (I did carry her suitcase out for her, and gave her a goodbye kiss, along with a turkey sandwich I made for her trip). Then I was in the car and off to the store. By the way, have you ever driven behind someone, who drives slowly for some time, then speeds up just as the light changes to red, leaving you no chance to follow them through the intersection? Yeah, I had one of those.

We are not even at the halfway point of this story.

So, I get to the store, grab a cart, head inside, and make my way to where the mowers are located. Yep, I knew the way. Could do it blind, if necessary. But, do not worry, that was not foreshadowing for this story. When I arrived, there were two boxes available (once again, the internet caused unnecessary anxiety). It was big and long, but not too heavy (insert another sex joke, and a double entendre). Now, a rational human being would go find a properly sized cart. Not me. I have a thing about pushing anything besides a shopping cart through Lowe’s (like I said before, I have issues). So, I was going to make it fit. A disadvantage with these objects, is that they have wheels, and unless you brace them against something, they tend to move as you poke them with an over sized box, especially when you can’t see where to stick it (these sex jokes just keep on coming… okay, I will stop). After a few minutes, and a few attemps, I got into the cart, only to discover that I had made a rookie mistake.

Look, I know how to shop. Each store has its own rules, little rituals that you perform along the way that make it easier at the end. The less time I spend in the store, the better. And Lowe’s has this thing where big boxed items have two UPC codes, and only one is useful when you scan. The other is a decoy, or something. Of course, having just spent several minutes embarrassing myself in the aisle, trying to pack this item into my cart, I was not about to arrive checkout, and do it all over again, but this time in front of people. So, I looked for the proper UPC code. Sure enough, it was hidden away, on the bottom.

So, now I needed to flip it. But, a man had just shown up. Fortunately, he seemed focused (probably how I looked when I entered the store), and moving fast towards me. In attempt to avoid humiliation, I waited, made myself appear as if I was still searching for an item. However, he lingered, moving up and down the aisle, grabbing things, checking them, and then putting them back. And, I continued to do the same. It was a like a dance. Two worker bees, trying to gather honey. Yet, at the same time,  avoiding interactions. Finally, he left, and I was able to turn the box around. 

By the way, remember when I said the box was long? Well, it stuck out so far, that I was not able to see over it as I moved the cart around the store. So, here I am, frustrated, tired, and impatient, weaving my way to the front, bobbing my head side to side, hoping not to hit anyone, or anything. At one point, I turned a corner, and saw the home stretch. Nothing stood in my way, except for a stupid display standing in the middle of the aisle.

Oh, also this random employee from the returns section, who pounced on me, while still working with another costumer. Do you want to save 20% on that item? Um. Sure. All you have to do is sign up for a MyLowe’s Card: here are ALL the benefits…

Okay, I realize this post is dragging on, much like the string of unfortunate events that made up my day. So, I will summarize. Apparently, I had signed up years ago, but did not have the card, which invalidated his offer of a discount. Instead of money off, I got a very awkward memory of a man whom I will have to see each time I enter this store. Onto the self-checkout, where a lovely, elderly cashier hovered about. Upon paying for the item, I soon realized the price did not match the sign back in the asile. I told the woman. She suggested I leave my cart there (she would watch it), then go find the sign and return with a picture of it. Which I did, and ended up making my second rookie shopping mistake. When I returned, she looked over the photo, and informed me that I would need to head to returns in order to receive the difference. That meant working with that employee who desperately wanted to sign me up for a MyLowe's Card. And off I went, barely navigating my cart towards someone I did not want to see. Well, I showed him the photo, but he would not accept it. So, together we went to find this sign, leaving behind my cart, and an unfortunate customer who had just showed behind me. Boy did I feel bad for her. Finally, we arrived at the scene of the crime, for in the end, that is what it was, a serious shopping offense. In my defense, the bit of information that nullified my savings was not the first, nor the second, and certainly not the third thing this employee looked for. But it didn’t stop him from saying in the end, “Yep, right there, in plain sight.”

The sale had expired a week ago. Fuck you, Lowe’s.

Is this summary too long? Well, now you know how my drive home ended up. It should have been less than ten minutes. Have you ever turned down a road, and wondered why all these cars were in a left-turn lane that rarely ever sees a car, let alone twelve (that is how often I drive through my local intersections—I know when something is off)? Then realize, up ahead, the police decided to shut down an entire lane, the one you usually take home? Now repeat that experience two more times. Ten minutes turned into twenty-five. And, yes, like the stupid shopping experience, some of it was my fault.

Sometimes you need to just deal with the road work ahead, and not try to avoid it.

How did this tale of woe end? I came home, unpacked it, and put it together. The battery required some charging. In the meantime, I used a less powerful one that I owned (another reason why I purchased this particular model). Mowed my front lawn. While the new battery continued charging, I dethatched my backyard, which was an adventure in it of itself (seriously, I have all these tools, you would think I would remember how to set them up and use them properly). For those who do not know, thatch is what develops when you leave your grass clippings on your lawn. From time to time, you should remove it, in order to expose the soil to air. There is a machine for it. I own an electric version. It leaves the dead grass piled up on top of the grass. In the past, I used my mower to collect it--I use it in the garden as mulch. Finally, the battery charged enough allowing me to start using it. So, I went outside and mowed the backyard. 

Sigh. I knew gas powered mowers were more powerful than electric ones. I was fine with that fact. That was, until I discovered this battery-powered mower would not be able to collect all that thatch. Oh, it bagged up some of it. However, in the end, I am going to have to add a new task to my to-do list: rake the backyard.

Oh, bother.