I golfed in this morning then had lunch with Doug and Junior. We all had McBurgerville Crispy Chicken sandwiches. None of us had fries which was good because none of us need fries. None of us needed a deep-fried chicken breast, either, but we ate them anyway.

After lunch I went to Great Clips and got a haircut from Misty. She’s a local girl who is going to New York this summer to attend her boy friend’s brother’s wedding and she gets to go and meet the family. She’s excited, of course, because she’s never travelled, and she’s never been on an airplane. We’re all hoping that she doesn’t puke, or something. I’ve never met Misty before so learning all this “stuff” was kinda fun.

After I got home I got my bike out and rode to Diane’s Mom’s (Jean’s) house and back. About two miles, uphill both ways. Going was fine, but had to stop pedaling and walk a while when my left arm started going numb. I figured that probably wasn’t a good thing and my legs were all into walking instead of pedaling. Mom and I visited for a while, then I assisted her with washing the filters in her furnace air cleaner. Assisting Jean means staying out of her way and helping only when asked. I’m good at that because her daughter, my First Wife, is exactly the same way. She earned from The Master.

When I got home I sat a bit, drank three glasses of water, then drove the old truck down by the burn pile and emptied the debris Jeff left in the back. It was mostly bad wood and is now on the burn pile awaiting a hot fire.

I contemplated mowing the lawn in the afternoon but decided to not press my luck by working too hard in one day. I consider taking a nap, too. I could do that because Diane is sequestered in the County Court House once again. She said she’s working on the election counting board, but I think it’s community service for yelling at the stupid drivers she encounters on the road. She denies it, of course. In lieu of mowing the yard, I decided to use the electric weed whacker and edge the sidewalk and flower beds. That entailed a trip to the back yard to get an extension cord long enough. It was in the back yard because I left it there, along with the battery charger, the last time I tried to mow the yard. Had to recharge the batteries.

I hooked up two cords and went to work and almost made it around the east corner of the house before I yanked the cords apart. Had I tied the cords together, like I usually do, that wouldn’t have happened, but I thought I might need that extra 6 inches of cord to do the job. Didn’t work. That meant a trip to the basement to get another cord, which I did. The extra length allowed me to zip around all the areas I wanted to zip around. When done, I meticulously wound the cords up and laid them on a pile of “things” in the garage. Having done the edges, I figured I may as well mow, but first I should probably trim the low hanging limbs on the tree by the sidewalk. I like it tall enough that I can walk under it whenever I want to. That doesn’t happen often, but I want it that way, just in case. I trim it by holding my battery-powered hedge trimmer above my head while slowly walking back and forth under the tree, trimming as I go. Works great. Just as I got going, the battery died and the spare was already dead. After searching around for the plug-in units for the hedge trimmer battery chargers, I found them buried under a bunch of chairs we don’t use in the corner of the garage. Tangled up with those chargers was the one for the little yellow jumper battery I have, so I plugged that in, too.

Since I had to wait for the batteries to charge, and I was way beyond wanting a nap, I thought I may as well fire up the lawn mower and get what I could. I went down stairs, jumped on the mower, turned the key, and nothing happened. I did this a few times before surrendering to the understanding that the battery was dead, too. I the charger from the lower patio which was near by, went back up to the garage for the extension cords I had recently removed from the lower patio, and got it plugged in. When things like this happen I always think that I should have upstairs and downstairs extension cords to eliminate all that walking up and down. I admit, however, that all that walking is a good thing. That’s one of the reasons I have all my tools in the basement. When I need a wrench I make a fairly educated guess at what size I need then go to the basement and get it. It’s always the wrong size so I have to go back and get the correct wrench. I do this for each task which some may think is a bit eccentric, which it is, but it’s the way I exercise. Kinda dumb, I know.

Now, while all the batteries are charging, I had nothing to do until I caught sight of the blackberries that were encroaching the area were we are growing our own bird feed from the seeds the birds scatter all over the place. They are interesting. I think pretty soon they will be tall and strong enough for Breezie to climb all the way to the bird feeders instead of jumping.

Thinking the charger had been on the mower long enough to get it going, I gave it a shot. It started right up, so I went to the burn pile to get the grass catcher attachments. That’s where I left them the last time I mowed. I don’t remember how long ago that was, but I’m sure lots snakes and rats appreciated the cover during the last few rainy days we had. I always enjoy helping the wildlife in the area.

Mowing went well until I emptied the jam-packed bags and headed out for the final round on the front yard. Then guess what happened. Yup. Ran out of gas and I didn’t have any.

At this point I decided to bow to the wisdom of whatever spirit was trying to tell me I wasn’t supposed to mow the yard today. At least, not all of it. So, there sits the mower in the front yard. Almost done, but not quite.

Perhaps tomorrow.

Diane’s home. She was released from the County Jail about an hour ago and stopped to talk with her Mom on the way home. Mom told her I rode my bike down to the house so she probably should look for me laying alongside the road on her way up the hill. That’s pretty kind of her to be so concerned about my welfare, don’t you think?