My day got hi-jacked

I know you all know what I’m saying – today my  day was hi-jacked. I mean, you start with a plan, and you have a good plan, and it’s all worked out according to schedule and overlap and linking one task with another dependent upon another. And then some one thing goes wrong right off the bat, and there you are dealing with it. 

I never make afternoon appointments with my dentist, because a guy like that can get hi-jacked by 10:30 in the morning, some patient with an emergency, or a process that took longer than expected, a piece of equipment goes out, hygienist breaks her tooth on a giro at lunch time, you never know what could happen to a dentist. I get in, and get out. 

A hijacking can happen with a phone call – here, we’ve had tenants with emergencies on Thanksgiving (oven switch went out with a turkey in the oven), Christmas Eve (tree root in a pipe caused poop to come up in the bath tub), and New Year’s Eve (hey, did you know, you’re not supposed to put stemware in a dishwasher?). Our tenants are important to us – ever have to field an empty rental? – and we try to deal with these mis-haps immediately. It’s nobody’s fault (I mean, did you know a hot water heater is only good for about 10 years?), it’s unpleasant for everybody (it’s amazing how a person’s mood depends on a functional toilet and a hot shower in the morning) and it’s just plain better to get it over with as quickly as possible.

So, you heave a heavy sigh, and you put off all that stuff that you been dying to get done, and you do the thing that just came up this morning. A hi-jacking. Anybody with small children knows what I’m talking about.

Today it was the death of a lawnmower. A good, loyal and hardworking beast, it finally took a crap in our tenant’s side yard, without warning, done, kaput, finit. We just bought a new blade for the damn thing a week ago, sheesh. I told my husband, “get the blade!” before he heaved it to the “Green Room” – a little area behind our shed, next to our back gate, out of sight of anybody, where we pile the next load for the dump. 

I thought we just bought that machine, but I looked in the receipt book – four years old! Wow, that’s a lot of mows. Almost weekly, and some sketchy terrain, mean weeds, the occasional rock. Rocks just boil up around here, big ones, after every good rain, or anytime my husband tils the garden. I collect them in my red wagon and use them to line flower beds, keeps the weeds out, looks pretty. 

There went the days’ mowing, it’s too hot to mess around after about 11am. My husband went to the hardware store once in an attempt to fix the old sucker, and now he’s off to Home Depot to spend another $250 on a new one. Sheesh! 

My day went okay, except I probably could have thought of a lot of other, more attractive ways to spend that two hundred and fifty bucks. But, I’ll say, nothing more practical, not this year anyway. The weeds are really lusty and lush this year, big sticker heads, lots of fat fox tails waving in the breeze. Fox tails  can  be a disaster for dogs – my old boxer Venus got one stuck in her throat and I didn’t know if I would get her to the vet fast enough. She was wheezing and choking the whole way. The vet was great, and the fee was certainly reasonable, but that was a hi-jacking for sure, both of my time and my dough. But I sure got a few more years of serious lovin’ out of that girl, she could hi-jack me anytime. 

I used to get  really stressed out over a hi-jacking. Now I’m an old lady, and I can’t afford to get my panties in a knot every time things don’t go my way, I’m glad I finally figured that out. Tomorrow’s another day. We got other stuff done today, my son came over and helped us, so we got to hang out with him all morning while we tinkered and damned over the lawn mower. 

Y por eso los grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan a mi!



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